I do not own Being Human or the characters used in these stories :)

I've decided to write a few short stories based mainly around Annie and Mitchell… some will be set in season one, others in season 2 and others in between and after (if that makes sense)… for anyone who hasn't seen season 2 yet I'll give a spoiler warning at the beginning of the chapter. Oh, and some stories will be a few chapters long, others just one chapter :) Enjoy…

(This first story is a replacement for the pilot episode, with the new Annie and Mitchell actors)

Chapter 1 – Arrival

Mitchell stared, wide eyed, through his sunglasses at the oddly shaped pink house. George bustled past him with three big bags in his hands,

"Come on Mitchell", said George.

"You never told me it was pink", Mitchell took a drag of his cigarette.

George stopped in front of the front door and plonked the bags down on the step before fumbling around in his jacket pocket for the door keys. He rolled his eyes at the vampire, "Does it really matter?"

Mitchell raised his eyebrows, "Are you serious? Its pink!", he flicked the cigarette away and shoved his gloved hands into the pockets of his leather jacket, "People'll already think we're gay".

George rolled his eyes and stuck the key in the door with a solid thunk. He turned it, with some difficulty, and shoved it open with both hands. Dust floated in the rays of sunlight that tapered across the hallway and George smiled at the welcome sight of a bead curtain hanging in the doorway to the kitchen. He grabbed the bags and stepped inside.

Mitchell carried the television – it was too heavy for George – to the door of the pink house and stopped on the front step. George was busy snooping around the kitchen, looking in drawers and trying the taps. Mitchell hung his head and shouted,

"George? Hello?"

George's head popped around the corner of the kitchen doorway, complete with a beaming smile, "You should see the state of the floor in here", he physically shuddered, "It's filthy!"

Mitchell raised his eyebrows and nodded serenely, not really caring about the floor. Before he had time to speak George disappeared into the kitchen once more.

A tall man with a bald head and piercings was walking down the street on the other side of the road and he shouted over to Mitchell, "Alright?!"

Mitchell scooped the TV under one arm and raised the other, "Yes thanks!"

The bald man stopped, obviously wanting to start a shouting conversation across the street, "I'd watch yourself in there!", he gestured to the pink house, "Place is haunted!"

Mitchell half smiled half grimaced and turned back to the house. George flounced out of the kitchen and started to carry the bags up the thin staircase. He turned, looking annoyed at Mitchell, "Aren't you going to help?"

Mitchell's shoulders slumped and he rolled his hazel eyes underneath his sunglasses, "You have to, you know".

George looked dumbfounded and opened his eyes wide, "What?"

Mitchell sighed heavily, "You have to invite me in".

George's mouth made an "o" shape and he dropped the bags, allowing them to roll lazily down the first three stairs. He straightened and raised his arms outwards, "John Mitchell, I invite you in".

Mitchell laughed and shook his head, "Right, thanks George". He stepped in, feeling the rush of release as the invisible barrier disappeared. He placed the television in the living room and walked back outside to get the rest of their stuff.

Upstairs George plonked his bags into the smallest bedroom, he knew Mitchell would complain if he took up the larger room and so decided to avoid an argument that he would end up losing anyway.

After leaving his bags safely in his room he began to inspect the other rooms; the bathroom seemed okay, if not a little dusty, and the room opposite his bedroom smelled of damp. He made his way along the bare floorboards, which creaked and moaned as he walked to the final bedroom, the guestroom he thought, and pushed open the door. The dust whooshed around in the sunlight that spilled in through the window and the pink curtains that hung at the window rippled slightly. He looked around the small room: there were some random film posters on the wall, one of which was for King Kong, a film which George hated. There was a naked light bulb hanging from the ceiling and a large armchair with peach flowers all over it in the corner of the room.

Only George stood in the room but he felt a cold shiver trickle down his spine as though someone were standing there with him. He shook his shoulders and walked out of the creepy little room, closing the door behind him.

*****

It was around twelve thirty at night and George was in bed; he'd been busy all day, cleaning and sorting out which box went in which room, and he'd gone to bed, much to Mitchell's dismay. He hated sitting alone.

Mitchell sat in the living room with the lights out; they wouldn't be on until tomorrow. He started to slide a cigarette out of the packet when he heard a clatter upstairs; it sounded like someone dropping a beer glass. He stood up quickly and darted up the staircase three steps at a time.

Mitchell pushed open the door to George's room gently only to see that the werewolf was still asleep, lying on his back snoring slightly. Carefully, Mitchell closed the door and stepped into the larger room, his room. It was empty; he hadn't even bought himself a bed yet and the room echoed with the hollow sound of an uninhabited home. It freaked him out a little.

As Mitchell moved along the corridor to the spare room, or the guestroom as George preferred, he began to feel uneasy. The air seemed tangy, with the slight taste of metal and the hairs on his arms stood on end. He opened the door quickly and dived into the room, prepared for anything from a burglar to a cat. Nothing. Only a light bulb lying in broken shards on the wooden floor boards. Mitchell knelt down carefully and began picking up the pieces of glass.

"Oh, so you're house proud are you?" The voice came from the shadowy corner of the room and Mitchell fell backwards as it spoke into the silence. The voice laughed humourlessly and spoke again, "Clumsy too".

Mitchell got to his feet and held out a shard of glass like a weapon, "Who's there?"

Silence.

Mitchell spoke again, waving the glass and looking around frantically, "I mean it! Who's there?"

"You-", the voice sounded like a young woman, quite well spoken but not too well spoken, "You can hear me?"

Mitchell lowered the shard of glass and squinted into the corner of the room that was in shadow, "Yeah. Of course I can bloody hear you".

A slim woman of around 22 or 23 with milky-coffee skin and big curly brown hair stepped out of the shadows. Oh, Mitchell thought, Wow.

The woman, who was dressed all in grey, held out her hand as if to touch Mitchell and he stepped back slightly. She pulled her hand back and held it at her mouth, she seemed awe-struck, completely fascinated by him. He decided this was a good time to speak again,

"Why are you in our house?"

The woman frowned and one side of her mouth twitched into a smile, it looked as though she hadn't smiled in a while, "Your house?"

Mitchell nodded.

She continued, "This-", she gestured around the room widely, "This is my house and you're not supposed to be here!" She was starting to get angry and so was Mitchell.

"Look lassie, I think you should go now. We've just moved in and well, we weren't expecting any crazy people on our first night here".

She frowned and her mouth opened in shock, "I'm not crazy!" She ran a hand down her face, "You don't understand, nobody does". She looked down at the floor and sighed, a single tear bled down her face.

Mitchell stepped towards her and lifted his hand to catch the tear but she flinched away, scared. Mitchell held his hand out to shake and smiled lopsidedly, "I'm Mitchell".

She seemed to think for a moment and then wiped the tear away from her eye, "Annie", she shook his hand. It felt cold and tingly against Mitchell's skin and he held his hand out in front of him when she finally let go,

"You're a ghost", he said.

Annie smiled and shrugged causing them both to laugh.

Suddenly George burst through the door brandishing a sweeping brush; he held it above his head with his eyes wide and wild, "Right! I'm armed and dangerous, who wants some?!"

Both Mitchell and Annie smirked, trying to hold back laughter. Mitchell pointed to Annie, "George, this is Annie. She's a ghost".

Thanks for reading!

Please review!

I hope you don't mind me making up my own way of the gang meeting, I just wanted to give it a go :)

If you've got any ideas for fics please let me know :)

More chapters soon