Being Human

What if Mitchell in Season 1 was trying so hard to fit in to human society that he got carried away and ended up accidentally inviting Nina (who doesn't know about vampires and werewolves yet) over to play Rock Band? This is what could have happened…

Mitchell wasn't the only one who liked to impress people. Annie, for all her faults, had died trying to impress Owen, and she didn't feel much different now. She liked to hear people's compliments, and often went out of her way to help out a friend in need.

But watching Mitchell push himself through the door with a precarious load of packages and bags in his arms made her think that she might be asked to do something a bit beyond the usual tea-making.

Speaking of tea…

"Did you just spend all our tea money on an X-Box?" she asked as Mitchell carefully collapsed onto the sofa with boxes cascading down around him.

"Surprise!" he said, grinning hopefully as she and George examined the bags' contents. "I thought that—you know, we needed something fun to do in the evenings, so I bought us Rock Band."

"Rock Band? That's that game that kiddies play in high school!" George said. He picked up a box at random. "You know, people should play real musical instruments rather than rely on a computer to—Ooh! They have Freezpop!..."

"I'll get it set up," Mitchell said, and Annie made some tea while Mitchell disappeared into a sea of packaging, wires and instruction manuals. When she came back he had a manual in one hand and a game controller in the other.

"OK, if shopping is your new therapy for giving up blood, that's fine," she said, gathering up the now empty boxes, "But do you think you could have started with something a little cheaper?"

Mitchell feigned nonchalance. "No."

"Come on, Mitchell, what's this all about? Who are you trying to impress now? And please don't tell me you invited that crazy man from the chippy over to play…"

"Of course not. I was just talking to Nina today, as a matter of fact, and—"

"Oh my God, what did you say to her?" George bursted out.

"Nothing, nothing! W-well, that is," Mitchell stammered, "We were just talking about Rock Band, and I invited her over to play. I…might have said that we were really good at it."

George sighed and sank into the sofa. "Oh, yes! This is just great! You do know Rock Band is one of the most popular games around, right? When she sees I can't play, she'll think I'm a freak!"

"That's why we need to practice." He put the instruction manual down with an air of stoic purpose. "Grab the drumsticks."

"Do I get to play?" Annie asked cautiously. The guitar that Mitchell picked up looked very inviting. And it might be fun to have another girl around the house for once.

"Of course!" Mitchell said. "There's a microphone with your name on it."

Annie pouted, but she didn't complain, and picked up the microphone as Mitchell scrolled through the song list.

"I used to play drums in band when I was a kid," George said, appearing to be warming up to the idea. He twirled the drumsticks in his hands, and set one flying accidentally into the kitchen.

"First we have to give ourselves a band name," Mitchell said.

"How about, Annie and the Annets?"

"How about George and the Georgettes?" George called from the kitchen.

"I don't think we should put our names in it," Mitchell said. "How about 'the Wandering Monsters'? It's funny on two levels!"

George and Annie stared. Mitchell gulped.

"You know, Dungeons and Dragons?" He blushed. "I don't just know that because I'm old—people still play it!"

"It's fine, it's fine," Annie said. "Wandering Monsters. *I* like it."

"Make sure to leave a spot for Nina," George said.

"People can come in later, don't worry," Mitchell said. "Now, what song do we want to do first? Beatles? Flyleaf…Oh! Sabotage, let's try that one!"

"I've never heard that song before," Annie said.

"Sure you have, its on basically every movie trailer in the last six months."

"Well, let's try it, anyway," George said, who had retrieved his drumstick and sat down behind the set. "But um, what do the colors mean?"

"Er—I'm sure it will all make sense once we start playing," Mitchell said, sounding a bit uncertain himself, but he started the song anyway.

"Wait—you put it on the high difficulty setting-!"

"Bollocks, that's fast—what do those lights mean?"

"Hold on, what key is this in-?"

"Am I meant to be playing? Do you hear me playing?"

"This doesn't make any noise!"

"Wait, wait, pause it—"

But no one needed to. The screen told them quite plainly that they had failed out in under thirty seconds. The three of them sat back.

"What the hell does this thing do?" Mitchell said, poking the whammy bar cautiously.

"Is this thing on?" Annie asked, tapping the microphone.

George took it from her, and spoke into it. "Seems to be working alright for me. Maybe you need to speak louder?"

Mitchell took it from George. "Hello? Hello? Maybe it can't hear the undead."

"Oh, charming," Annie said. "I suppose I'll just hide up in my room like I do whenever you two have company over…."

"No, no, Annie, we need you!" George said. "Come on. Why don't you try one of the instruments?"

"Can I try the guitar?" she asked. "At least I know what a whammy bar is."

Mitchell sheepishly handed over the guitar. "But I can't sing—that thing won't hear me, either."

"But you haven't played drums in decades!" George said.

"It's all muscle memory. Come on, shift yourself and howl for us."

"Fine," George said. "Which one do we try next?"

"Well, you could probably do 'Under Pressure,' or 'Still Loving You'."

Annie pointed at the screen enthusiastically. "Ooh! Ooh! That one! 'I Believe In a Thing Called Love'. You could sing that one! It's by the Darkness!"

"What's with all the power ballads?" George whined.

"Well, between you and Mitchell, you have the highest voice."

"I do not!" George whimpered, completely ignoring the fact that his voice went extremely high at the end of the exclamation. Annie sighed.

"Come on, what's the highest note you can sing?"

"Ah?" George offered.

"Come off it, you can go higher than that!"

"I ca—N'T!" the last syllable came out as a shriek as Mitchell poked him in the ribs from behind. "That's—that's not fair-!"

"'I Believe in a Thing Called Love' it is," Mitchell said, entering it into the system. "Alright, everyone, on your toes. We'll get this song right if it kills us…again."