A/N: This is the final part of the Blood in the Night trilogy. It's set after season 1, and is now totally AU for season 2, but what the heck! The story needed a conclusion.

Expect the usual strong language, bit of violence and angst. Thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: Being Human and all its lovely characters belong to Toby Whithouse. No infringement is intended, and certainly no financial benefit is being made.

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"Um, George."

"Yes, Mitchell?"

"How exactly did you just take that pawn?"

"What – this one?"

"Yes, that pawn you just took off the board. You can't just decide to take a pawn because you fancy it. It's generally regarded as rude."

"It's en passent."

"I beg your pardon?"

"En passent. It means, in passing."

"Yes, I know what it means. I did live in Paris for two years."

"Did you? I didn't know that!"

"And giving it some fancy French name doesn't change the fact that you just stole my pawn."

"Stole your pawn? I've never heard anything so ridiculous. That's a perfectly legitimate move. I can't believe that a man who's been playing chess for almost 100 years has never heard of en passent."

"Yeah, well, I don't normally play with cheats," Mitchell muttered, sensing defeat and putting his chin into his hand.

George sighed. "Just play the game, Mitchell."

"Anyway, I told you, I haven't played in about 30 years," Mitchell moped, moving his bishop and completely missing the impending danger to his king.

"Hm, it shows," George said, missing nothing, and getting his queen into play. "Check. So why haven't you played? Too busy biting people?"

"Something like that," Mitchell replied, lazily moving his king out of danger. His gaze wandered up to his companion, who was watching the board like a hawk, his eyes darting here and there, looking for opportunities, strategizing the best moves.

Four months had passed since a crazy scientist with a God-delusion had locked the two of them together in a cell; four months in which nothing much had happened except that time had slipped along with a tick tick precision. Three moons had waxed and waned and the fourth hung swollen in the sky, threatening its monthly torment. But for now, all was quiet, and nothing within their humble three up, two down would have raised any suspicion of the supernatural in all but the most observant of visitors.

Mitchell noticed that George was idly playing with the two tiny scars on his neck where he'd bitten him, stroking his fingers over them, worrying them. It was a move Mitchell saw him make a lot these days when he was concentrating. George was after all a very tactile person, it was as if his hands needed to be touching something at all times. Now they had a new play thing.

He moved his rook.

"Why did you want to play, anyway?" Mitchell asked, looking at the board again. "That set's been sitting there since we moved in, and you've never asked me before."

If he'd been looking at his housemate, he would have seen the vaguest flicker of emotion crease his face. But he wasn't, and he didn't.

"Oh, I just wanted to do something that I really enjoyed today," George explained dismissively.

"What's special about today?" Mitchell asked, reaching his hand out to move a piece.

George smiled. "Nothing," he said a little wistfully. "It's just another day."

"Tea?" Annie said, coming through the string curtain from the kitchen with a couple of steaming mugs.

"Annie, have you heard of en passent?" George questioned her as she came up to their table.

"What?" she paused before them, not sure what she was being asked.

"En passent," he said again. "It's a move in chess that Mitchell hasn't heard of."

"Well, he's not the only one," she admitted, putting a mug down in front of each of them and moving round to sit on the couch beside Mitchell. "I've never played chess before in my life." She paused. "Or my death," she added.

"You've never played chess before?" Mitchell was incredulous.

"Well, excuse me for not being a geek," she protested.

"A geek!" George exclaimed.

Mitchell just smiled. "It's a good game," he said. "You should try it sometime." He moved to try to avoid the continuing danger of George's attack on his king

"Hm, think I have better things to do with my afterlife," she said, quickly losing interest and picking up the TV remote. She clicked it on.

"So when were you in Paris?" George asked Mitchell, moving his queen again. "Check."

"Oh, some time in the 1940s."

"1940s?" George looked up. "Like when Paris was occupied by Nazis?"

"Pretty much," Mitchell confirmed languidly, looking around the board. "Me and a couple of the others thought it would be an interesting time to visit. We kind of – badly misjudged things and ended up being stuck there for two years."

"But, how did you get away with it? Didn't people notice that you weren't French or – y'know – human?"

Mitchell glanced up at him. "We have contacts everywhere," he said, and moved his king again. "It wasn't too difficult to hide, just to travel around. Even vampires are no match for German efficiency."

"I'd love to see Paris," Annie said a little wistfully. The ghost was flicking through channels on the telly, eventually ending up on News 24 for lack of anything more exciting. She put the remote back down. "I guess I never will now."

"Why?" Mitchell turned to her curiously. "You can go anywhere you want. You could travel the world."

"Making tea wherever you go," George muttered quietly, wondering whether he should just check mate Mitchell, or allow the game to go on a little longer.

"Oh… no, I don't think so," Annie said.

"Why?" Mitchell asked again.

"I – like it here too much," she made up quickly, smiling.

"Really?" George said, without looking up from the board. "With the bad weather, the leaky roof, and housemates who bring death and destruction on your head on a regular basis?" He flicked her a glance and looked back at the board. "Checkmate," he said, having decided that the game had gone on long enough already.

Mitchell looked back over. "Oh," he said. "Well. Good game."

"You too," George said, not really meaning it. "You're not as bad as you think you are."

"Well as I said," Mitchell repeated himself. "I haven't really played in ages." He turned back to the ghost. "Now, Annie…" he started, but then he broke off, staring at the TV.

The others followed his gaze.

"What is it?" Annie wondered. The report was showing a segment that seemed to be coming from a lab somewhere. Scientists wearing plastic glasses and white coats were syringing liquids into little bottles. The words: "Breakthrough discovery" sat at the bottom of the screen.

"Turn it up," Mitchell commanded. Then when no one did anything, he repeated himself. "Annie, turn it up."

"Oh," she grabbed the remote and unmuted the sound.

"…is attending a conference of his peers in Edinburgh this week to discuss the applications of the drug, which it's hoped will make it through the final stages of clinical testing later next year." The report was saying.

"Mitchell, what is it?" George wondered, slightly alarmed by his housemate's intense gaze at the TV screen.

But the vampire ignored him, watching.

"Mitchell?"

"Sh!" he waved his hand in George's direction to get him to be quiet, as the camera zoomed in on the presenter.

"And we can talk now to Professor Jadat, the mastermind behind this incredible discovery."

The camera panned to her right, and Mitchell sat up sharply as the man's face was revealed.

"Did she just say…" George began, but then the man on the screen started to speak, and he cut himself off.

"Yes, we've been working on this now for quite some time," he said. "Probably ten years or so, so it's certainly not something that's just come about over night, but we're extremely pleased with the way these most recent tests have been going, and if the clinical trials confirm our own research, it could certainly be a big step forward in finding a cure to certain auto-immune diseases such as multiple sclerosis and arthritis."

"This is obviously a huge step forward for modern science," the interviewer said. "But when do you think the drug will actually be available for practical use against these conditions?"

"Well, drug trials are usually a lengthy and drawn-out process, but if everything turns out as planned, I think we can look forward to seeing this rolled out sometime late next year."

"Professor Jadat, thank you for your time today," the presenter turned back to the camera, all neat bob and carefully selected jewellery. "Sally, back to you."

There was a short silence in the room, as the news programme moved onto sport, and Annie hit the mute button again.

The ghost turned to look at her two housemates. "Was that – am I right in thinking that that's the man - ?" she asked.

"That's the bastard that put us in a room together at a full moon," Mitchell growled, dangerously.

George was shocked. "He looks remarkably alive," he said. "I thought they were all killed? I thought you said the vampires killed them all?" he looked at Annie.

"We thought they had," she protested. "But Mitchell…"

She broke off and George looked between the two of them. "Mitchell, what?" he demanded.

"I thought he might have escaped," Mitchell admitted.

"What!" George exclaimed. "Why didn't anyone tell me this?"

"You were sick. Besides, what would you have done?" Mitchell asked him. "And I didn't have any proof of it anyway, it was just a feeling I had."

George made a few indignant noises, before coming out with: "Well, you could have told me your suspicions. I thought all the danger was past."

"It was," Mitchell dismissed his argument. "He wasn't going to come after us again, not with what happened."

"But from what he just said," Annie broke in. "You said he was experimenting, that he was using supernaturals to come up with medical cures."

"Yeah, and it looks like he's been successful," Mitchell looked less than thrilled at the idea. "Bastard! How many deaths has he caused to come up with his fantastic discovery? How many people has he just used and thrown aside like wet towels?"

"What are you going to do?" George asked him, warily.

Mitchell looked him in the eye. "I don't know," he admitted. "But he's out there walking and talking and getting accolades after putting us through hell. That's not a punishment! What he did to us was diabolical, it was cruel, and I'm saying that as someone who knows cruelty. And all in the name of 'science'? Well fuck that!" He got to his feet and paced to the other side of the room. His two housemates watched him, wary of his tension and of his sudden sense of purpose. "I think we should pay him a visit," Mitchell said eventually, looking at George.

"What, now?"

Mitchell nodded. "He's in Edinburgh they said, so we know where he is. He's obviously been keeping his head right down for the last few months, because I looked for him, I looked for him hard and I couldn't find a trace of him anywhere. We need to get to him now, before he goes to ground again."

George was shaking his head. "No, no way," he protested.

"Oh come on, George! That man tried to make you kill me! And if you'd made it until morning, he'd made it very clear to me that he was going to put you down, like you were so much of an animal to him. You think someone like that is going to give two seconds thought about doing the same to someone else? You think he's given up the idea of experimenting on people and is doing everything for the good of humanity?"

"Yes, but be that as it may," George said firmly. "It's a full moon in two days, and I'm not taking the risk of being involved. If I end up transforming somewhere that I don't have control of, it could be a disaster! If you insist on going after him now, I can't come with you."

Mitchell considered him, angry, breathing hard. "Fine," he said eventually, moving abruptly into the hallway. He tore his coat off the hook and grabbed his keys out of his pocket. "I'll find someone who will." And with that, he pulled the door open and left, slamming it behind him as he went.

George sat with his mouth open for a few seconds, and turned to look at Annie to see if she shared his shock. She just smiled back, nervously, and shrugged her shoulders.