A new fic. This is my interpretation of how Mitchell got the nickname of 'Big Bad John'. This is set mainly in flashback but with a hint of the future included. The recognisable characters of Being Human UK belong to Toby Whithouse et al, the other characters are my own. All errors, grammatical and otherwise are also my own. The title "sugar and cyanide" comes from a Seether song called 'Tonight'. Love to hear your thoughts :)
Sugar and Cyanide.
They say that it's in the dead of night when the wild things prowl. Unspeakable creatures that hide in the darkest of shadows, blanketed and secure; only emerging when exposure is threatened. They prefer to remain hidden, to stay a secret. He wonders how the world would react to the realisation that true darkness exists on a much more common level than they could possibly ever realise.
Silence is his only companion tonight. He doesn't make a sound. The hush offers comfort to those who seek it and he ignores it. He has other things on his mind tonight.
He pauses in front of the doorway and he looks up. This is where they said she'd be and he takes a slow, deep breath. He looks up and down the deserted corridor and he flicks a quick glance upwards at the ceiling. All they will see is the door open, just a little bit, technically wide enough for a body to slip through. The disbelieving will blame a draught; the believers will know the truth.
He walks carefully, cautiously, his eyes vigilant but she doesn't look up from her book. Why should she, it's the middle of the night and everyone is sleeping. He slips behind curtains and he checks the patient records hooked on the end of each bed, searching for one name in particular. Finally he finds it and he examines it in the weak light. He smiles to himself and he lowers himself onto the seat beside the bed. He looks at her. She stirs as she feels his cool hand gently grasp hers. Her eyes open and turn his way.
"Hello Alice" he greets.
Chapter One:
Bristol: 1925
"Ooh and who is this poppet?" Slowly Mitchell raises his head and he looks at her with dark unfathomable eyes.
"Pardon me?" She widens big blue eyes.
"Oh and an Irish poppet, William you spoil me" she smiles almost gleefully and Mitchell sends Herrick a look as if to say what the hell?
"Settle down Lily, he's not your new plaything" Herrick sighs irritably. He rolls his eyes, shakes his head and turns his back.
In the meantime Mitchell has gets an eyeful of this new arrival, another vampire. He observes her; she's stunning, possibly one of the most beautiful women he has ever seen. The macho part of him appreciates her pale porcelain skin, the dark blue eyes and her sable dark hair that is the colour of melted chocolate. She's a confection. He watches Lily pout perfectly rouged lips.
"Awww…please William, I promise not to break him" Mitchell watches her go to him and her expression is wheedling, pleading and Mitchell waits for the snarl, the flash of irritation that is sure to follow, Herrick does not like being coddled by anyone. He slowly turns and regards her.
"I'm not worried about the soldier there" he mutters and Lily turns almost delighted eyes back to Mitchell and he feels pinned to his chair. Instead he slides down and averts his gaze.
"He's a soldier? Even better!" she exclaims and strides towards him. Mitchell sends a mildly panicked look Herrick's way.
"Christ Lily, go easy on the boy" Herrick calls. Mitchell scrambles to his feet.
She smells wonderful, her perfume washes over him and she smiles at him and holds out a hand.
"I'm Lily Vale" she introduces with a wide, white smile that instantly puts him on his guard. Slowly, cautiously, he takes her hand.
"John Mitchell" he replies. Her smile widens.
"So you're William's newest recruit" she breathes and her dark blue eyes sparkle with interest. Mitchell flicks an unsure look Herrick's way and watches him approach them.
"Yes Lily, he's the latest addition to the family, now let go of his hand and leave him alone, I'm sure there's someone else around more suitable to your…taste" Herrick chides and Lily pouts and lets go of his hand.
"If you insist, but he looks like he could be lots of fun" she winks saucily at him over one shoulder as she turns and follows Herrick out of the room.
Mitchell exhales and relaxes tense shoulders. He has no idea who she is but he feels like he's been hit by a tempest.
He sits beside Herrick at the table and watches everything that's going on. There is so much for him to see, to witness, to learn and he views it with barely reigned in impatience. He wants to do it all now, at once, before boredom sets in. The world around him is a cornucopia of possibilities. He pulls at the collar of his shirt as he watches the young ladies on the dance floor with their boyfriends, their dance partners. He's bored and he's restless which is never the best of combinations for him.
"Will you sit still, you're starting to get on my nerves" Herrick mutters and Mitchell sends him a slightly resentful sideways glance. He folds his arms and frowns. Herrick glances at him and then rolls his eyes.
"For God's sake, get something to drink" he hisses and Mitchell unfolds his arms and Herrick watches his dark eyes keenly scan the vista in front of him. He bites back a smile of pride. John is a very quick learner, probably one of his quickest. Nothing worries him, he thinks quickly on his feet and the women absolutely adore him. He lifts his eyes as target selected, Mitchell rises to his feet and he watches him skirt the busy dance floor. Herrick scans the faces and he sees the little blonde seated alone beside the orchestra and he smiles to himself. She's plain, lonely and ripe for the picking.
Oh yes, his boy is a very quick learner indeed.
She did tell him her name but for the life of him he can't remember it. She seems overwhelmed by his attention, his undivided attention and he stays just on the right side of decency. He flirts with her, buys her champagne and she's his. He stays on the side lines, he doesn't want anyone to remember him and cause all sorts of unwelcome trouble.
She's a little bit tipsy as they leave the little jazz club. She wants to hail a cab but he persuades her to take a walk. He knows that there's a small park nearby and it'll be deserted at this time of night. He feels a growl in the pit of his stomach. He's starving and she'll be the perfect hors d'oeuvres. She slides her arm trustingly through his and dimples a smile up at him. She's being daring, she barely knows this man and she's allowing him to walk her home. She feels a shiver of bravado at her daring.
It's a mild midsummer evening and the breeze feels like silk on his face. He feels her arm slide through his and he glances down at her and he smiles at her without any real affection. His eyes scan the street, looking for the perfect place to cross so that he can hide her away and he can eat. He can hear the rhythmic whoosh of her blood as it flows through a variety of veins and arteries. Herrick tells him that he'll learn to naturally filter it out eventually, it takes practice. He's never been particularly patient. Right now he can hear the musical lump-bump of her heartbeat. It sounds a little quick, a little excited and he barely refrains from laughing out loud.
He sees the park ahead of him. They cross the road and enter via ornate wrought iron gates. He lifts his head to the breeze and he gently inhales.
"This isn't the way home" she tells him and he looks down at her.
"It's still early so I thought we could walk for a bit" he suggests and he sees the troubled expression in her big blue eyes.
"Don't you want to take a walk with me?" he lays his accent on thick and sees the misgiving melt from her eyes. Herrick has told him more than once that with his accent and his eyes, women will be tripping over themselves to accommodate him. It seems he's right. He covers the hand that is linked through his proprietarily.
"It's such a beautiful night" he sighs, looking up at the navy blue sky.
At this time of night, the park is deserted. Mitchell listens but all he can hear is the sound of the night breeze rushing through the leaves and branches of various trees. It's strangely calming but internally he is anything but. He anticipates tasting her, getting close enough to her to savour that first mouthful. His mouth waters at the thought of it.
He leads her to a bench and they sit together. He can feel the warmth of her skin from her thigh as it presses against his. She looks at him. He smiles and he sees the nervous smile she affords him. He reaches for her hand and holds it between his for a moment before he shuffles a little bit closer. He lowers his head, intent on kissing her, getting her under his spell. He frowns as she flinches back.
"What are you doing?" she breathes and he hears her pulse skitter nervously. He frowns slightly, taken a little bit by surprise.
"Don't you like me?" he still blanks on her name. He thinks that it's something feline sounding but can't take the risk. She blinks owlishly and he reigns in his impatience, his need to just lunge, attack and feed. It's difficult but he manages it, just.
"It's just…you're very…forward, that's all" she replies.
"I can't help it, it's the effect you have on me" he replies, tempering his tone, widening his eyes and wondering why she's being so bloody awkward. His stomach growls loudly and she stares at him.
"I'm so sorry, it's just that I haven't eaten in a while" he confesses. He tightens his grip on her hand and her eyes widen with alarm. She tries to pull it away but he holds on.
"Oh, don't be like that" he chides. He hears her pulse accelerate and it only adds to the excitement, a little bit of adrenaline spicing the blood is always good. He lowers his head and then feels a stinging pain across his cheek. It takes him by surprise and he lets go of her hand. He sees her scrabble across the bench, intent on putting a little bit of distance between them.
"I don't like your impertinence" she whispers fearfully and he rolls his eyes. He hates it when his meal plays hard to get. He reaches for her; he has no intention of charming her into submission now. He's hungry, he wants to feed and he has no more patience left. He feels his eyes turn inky black and sees hers widen with horror. He smiles and makes sure that she sees the fangs too. She jumps to her feet and she's running. He sighs and rolls his eyes and gets to his feet. In those heels, she won't get very far. He begins to follow.
She's running for her very life, every so often tossing fearful looks over her shoulder to see where he is, if he's close by. Her heart hammers in her breast and her mouth is dry. She doesn't see her until the last moment and she's crashing into someone. She stumbles and turns her head. A sigh of relief gasps out of her as the woman steadies her, concern in her big blue eyes.
"Are you okay?" she enquires. She clutches at her, looking over her shoulder. She lets out a squeak of alarm when she sees him come into view. He slows his pace.
"Sweetheart" he greets and her eyes widen in utter fear. She looks back at her rescuer.
"I don't know him…please, you have to help me" she begs.
"He seems to know you"
"He's…please…he's not human…he's a demon, a vile, horrific…demon" She watches them exchange a look, a long knowing look.
"Oh I'm not a demon sweetheart" Mitchell drawls, he grins at Lily, who smiles with pure delight. Horrified, the blonde looks at her and she gasps when she sees her eyes scorch a familiar black.
"The term is vampire darling" she drawls and she attacks before the girl has the chance to scream.
He sighs with pleasure and pushes her away from him and she rolls forgotten underneath some shrubbery. He wipes at his chin and smiles at Lily who is daintily reapplying face powder and lipstick. He watches her click her compact shut and pop it into her little bag. She looks at him and she smiles sunnily.
"Thanks" he tells her and she rolls her eyes.
"Another two minutes and she would've been out of the park and screaming the place down"
"Ah, no one would've believed her" he dismisses and Lily frowns.
"You don't know that. Lesson number one John, you never assume anything, it just takes one person to get curious and curiosity in our world only creates trouble" her expression is serious for just a moment before she smiles again and it makes her eyes sparkle.
"You need to polish your charm a little bit more, you have an arresting face, those eyes of yours especially, I can imagine you have women falling left right and centre over you" she leans closer to him and she looks down at his mouth.
"You're rather devastating now, can you imagine the effect you could have if you really worked at it, polished it up a little bit?" a tiny shiver tremors through her as she looks back into his eyes and she smiles.
"You could be the subject of myths and legends John" she whispers.
"Mitchell" he corrects her and she blinks.
"I beg your pardon?" He slowly smiles.
"I prefer to be called Mitchell, only my mother called me John" his eyes drop to her painted mouth and Lily watches the interest spark in his eyes. He seems to be contemplating something and she feels a flash of excitement ignite inside of her. He looks up into her eyes and a slow smile buds. He leans forwards and presses a quick, daring kiss on her mouth. Almost immediately he withdraws and looks at her, his expression almost impudent. There's a look of delight on her face and he takes this as her acceptance and this time his kiss lingers, deepens and takes possession. Her arms slip around his neck and she's tumbling backwards, bringing him down on top of her.
"Oh. There you are" Mitchell freezes when he hears Herrick's laconic tone. It has the same effect as a bucket of icy cold water being dumped over his head. He lifts his head slightly and he looks down into Lily's amused blue eyes.
"Not interrupting anything am i?" he continues and Mitchell sighs quietly. He moves away from Lily and uses his thumb to wipe at his bottom lip. Slowly he gets to his feet and he holds out a hand and watches as Lily places her own dainty one into it and she allows him to help her to her feet. He watches as she straightens the skirt of her dress and brushes away any dirt or loose grass from the expensive material. He turns to look at Herrick again and the older vampire sighs and pulls a white handkerchief out of his pocket. He holds it out to him.
"Wipe your mouth" he sighs and frowning, Mitchell takes the handkerchief. He swipes at his mouth and sees the blood and lipstick smears. He looks down at the front of his shirt and sees the blood splashed there.
"Honestly Mitchell, you need to learn to eat a little bit more tidily in future" Herrick chides and Mitchell frowns and swallows. It makes him feel small, being berated like this in front of Lily. He shoves the handkerchief into his pocket and follows him as he begins to walk away.
"I take it dinner was a little harder to come by than usual" Herrick enquires as they take their leave from the park.
"Unfortunately. If it hadn't been for Lily, she would've got away" he casts a long look at her over his shoulder and flashes a quick smile. Hers is positively saucy in response.
"Eyes forward soldier" Herrick mutters and Mitchell does exactly that.