Who doesn't miss the original trio? I've recently started watching Being Human from series 1 (for what must be the 8th time now) and I'd forgotten how much I loved the characters of Mitchell, George and Annie.

So, I'm going right back to the beginning! Mostly, it'll be a bit of Mitchell/Annie fluff, a lot of George's dramatic ways, and just generally the three of them back in their pink house in Bristol again.

No Lauren, no weird DVD, Mitchell hasn't relapsed, Annie can be seen.

Let me know if you want me to continue from this chapter :-)

Rated T for language.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything to do with Being Human, or the characters at all.

Chapter 1: There is a Light that Never Goes Out

The clanging of pots and pans rang through the walls of the house, shortly followed by the clunking of the pipes from the sink in the kitchen. An unknown, high-pitched, abrupt beep flooded the silence.

Mitchell refused to open his eyes. He clutched his duvet and pulled it over his face, screwing up his eyes in the attempt to drop off to sleep again. But it was hopeless. He groaned and rolled over to look at his alarm clock. There was another beep, but it wasn't from his alarm clock.

He dragged himself out of bed, wearing only a black vest and boxers, and tiredly trudged down the stairs.

"Morning," George called from the kitchen, in an unusually happy tone.

The beep sounded again.

Mitchell was already angry that he had been woken up, and at the ghastly hour of eleven o'clock, "What the fuck is that noise?" He pushed his hair off his face and slumped onto a kitchen chair.

"I dunno, it's been doing it all morning," George was washing up a frying pan in the disturbingly loud sink, after having egg on toast for breakfast.

"But where is it coming from?" Mitchell slammed his head on the table in frustration as the beep returned.

"I dunno," George repeated, "Ask Annie."

"Where's Annie?" He mumbled into the table, refusing to lift his head and find her himself.

"Getting the cold cups of tea from her room."

"I'll wait for her to come back down," Mitchell groaned.

George turned around and looked at Mitchell with concern and confusion, "What side of the bed did you get out of this morning?"

"I didn't want to get up," Mitchell moaned before another beep rang through the house. He let out a yell of irritation and leapt up out of his seat, "For fuck sake!" His fist slammed onto the table, knocking over George's unfinished tea.

George's eyes widened as he flinched backwards into the sink.

Annie entered the kitchen, seeing a startled George opposite a terrifyingly angry Mitchell. His scruffy hair had fallen over his face and his clenched fist was soaked in burning hot tea.

"What's happened here then?" Annie asked, heading towards a cloth by the sink.

"George keeps asking me questions," Mitchell spat, and his eyebrows furrowed, "And there's a fucking beep-y noise," he yelled, over another beep as if it were waiting for its cue, "That fucking beep! And it won't go away! It just keeps randomly beeping!" His fist slamming into the table once again.

Annie took his tea-soaked hand carefully, trying to keep her distance from the fuming vampire, and wiped away the tea. Mitchell's eyebrows went from sitting angrily above his glaring eyes, to slightly raised with surprise.

"What're you doing?" He asked, barely audible.

"You've got hot tea all over your hand," Annie stated simply, turning his hand over to clean his palm.

George had grabbed another cloth to clean the tea covered table and was watching Mitchell's face carefully.

"Oh," Mitchell began, "Sorry."

"You alright?" George asked him, seriously, once Annie had cleaned up his hand and gone to wring out the cloth.

"I'm thirsty, George," his tone deep and dark.

"Do you want some tea?" Annie asked, as she filled up the kettle.

"I don't want any f-"He stopped himself from swearing and shouting at her. She hadn't done anything wrong, "I'm going back to bed."

And with that he trudged back upstairs and threw himself onto his bed, not bothering to shut his door.

Down in the kitchen, George and Annie looked at each other, eye brows raised.

"I think he's finding things a bit difficult at the moment," George suggested, "I mean, he hasn't had any blood for weeks now."

"Will he be alright?" Annie's concern was obvious in her eyes.

Another beep sounded, followed by a frustrated yell and a thud.

"What the hell is that?" George refrained from yelling, and instead set off round the house waiting for the next beep.

After several yells, thuds and beeps, George had finally found the source. It was the fire alarm announcing it was low on battery.

"Is that it?" George whined.

Mitchell appeared from his room and joined George to look at the ceiling where the fire alarm was, "Is that it?" Mitchell sounded just as disappointed.

Annie came wandering up the stairs to find the two of them staring at the ceiling; her confusion was obvious in her face, "Oh good, Mitchell you're up. Thingy-ma-bob from that house down the road dropped round Casablanca. She said you can keep it."

"Cool," he said, before returning his attention to the fire alarm again.

"What're you two muppets looking at?" Annie asked.

"It's the fire alarm," George began.

"That's where the beeping has been coming from all day," Mitchell finished.

"Oh. What're you going to do about it?"

George stated, "There's a cricket bat in my room, under my bed, quite far back."

"No, you're not smashing it to pieces," Annie sounded like her mother did, whenever she was told she couldn't have a pet dog.

George whined, "Why not?"

"You're renting!"

"We're all renting," Mitchell added.

"I'm dead!"

"But it keeps beeping!" George whined, much like a seven year old.

"What if there's a real fire?" Annie thought realistically.

"Well at least we'd be able to think straight without the bloody beeping noise!"

~BH~BH~BH~BH~

Nothing much had happened since Mitchell and George had gone to work. Actually, make that nothing at all. Annie had cleaned pretty much every single surface in the house, made several billion cups of tea and made the boys' beds – something they failed to do every day.

The beeping had stopped, after Annie had come to an agreement that they could in fact smash the fire alarm to pieces. Watching their happy, boy-ish faces at the time was worth it. But they had promised to return home, after work, with a new fire alarm.

It was half past eight, and the boys had finally come home. Mitchell came through the front door, taking off his jacket before throwing it onto the sofa arm and falling onto the sofa next to Annie. George had succeeded in his daily ritual of accidentally tripping up the step into the house, before silently cursing and questioning, "Where the hell did that step come from?"

Annie's legs were tucked up into her chest; her arms wrapping snugly around them as if she were cold – but in reality it had just become a habit when she was alive.

George tapped Mitchell's shoulder with the TV remote to get him to move over a bit. Mitchell did as was requested. He had decided some time ago that he didn't want to get sat on by George every evening.

Mitchell tiredly leant into George and rested his head on his shoulder, earning him a very strange look from both George and Annie. Mitchell quickly realised and shuffled to lean in the opposite direction, on Annie.

He was slouched into the sofa and was leaning into her waist. "What did you get up to today?" He peered up at her with puppy-like eyes.

At first Annie was confused as to what Mitchell was playing at. But when she looked down at him to see his pained and tired eyes, she found he was just seeking conversation; comfort from a friend – she had realised recently that he did have emotions; that he really did appreciate his friends.

"I made your beds again."

George was flipping through the channels, trying to ignore whatever was happening next to him. He had learnt that Mitchell was seen as a bit of a womanizer. But he hadn't yet noticed that he wasn't acting in that way with Annie. In fact, Mitchell could even be seen as caring when he was Annie – but George wasn't willing to accept that conclusion just yet.

Mitchell lifted himself up so he could see Annie's face more clearly, "Well thank you," he smiled.

"I also found a pair of your boxers on the floor," she added.

Mitchell had to admit he felt slightly embarrassed, and let a very innocent smile spread across his face.

Should I continue? There will be a plot arising soon... Probably... I just love Mitchell & Annie so much!

Feel free to check out my Doctor Who fics too :-)