Many thanks for the really encouraging reviews. This chapter concentrates on the slowly developing friendship between Mitchell and Shannon. All errors are my own and are unintentional. Love to hear your thoughts as usual.

Chapter Two:

He lets himself into his tiny little flat and he sighs quietly as he closes the door behind him. He lets his shoulders slump, his arms fall lax to his sides. For a brief moment he allows his chin to drop to his chest and he closes his eyes. After a second he takes a breath and lifts his head again. He unzips his jacket and shrugs it off, hanging it up on the single hook by the door. He walks along the narrow corridor towards the poor excuse of a living room. All it contains is a table, a chair, an armchair and a second hand television which is currently perched on a rickety looking coffee table. He drops onto the armchair and he closes his eyes again and he sighs, allowing the encroaching exhaustion to sweep over him.

It's so hard, almost too hard. He's a vampire but he struggles not to be one. After decades of living the heights of a wondrous hedonistic bloody lifestyle, maintaining his sobriety is demanding. Preserving his new lifestyle is almost too much but he's determined to do better this time. He tried once before, in the sixties but back then he had Josie to help him, to guide him and to love him. Now he has nobody, no real incentive. He's constantly on his guard against temptation, he has to ignore perpetual, clawing hunger, he has to think about every single aspect of his life and right now he doesn't trust himself completely. Maybe he left Carl's guidance too soon, maybe he should've stuck around til the summer like Carl had wanted him to. Of course he'd been an arrogant bastard and insisted that he'd be fine. He isn't, he knows that he isn't, not completely but he'll be damned before he'll go crawling back to Carl and admit any kind of defeat.

He doesn't want to fail at this, he doesn't want to see or feel Herrick's scorn because he's having a hard time understanding to begin with. Mitchell knows that he'll shout his 'I told you so's' the loudest. He's just waiting for him to fall flat on his face and come back into the fold with his tail between his legs. His eyes pop open at this. For that reason alone he mustn't fail. He needs to find the strength to continue on this mission from somewhere. He gets to his feet and stretches for a moment. He needs sleep; his mood is always at its worst when he's tired. Maybe things will look clearer then. As he slowly trudges towards his bedroom, one thought stays in his head.

He didn't kill anyone today.

Shannon goes into the cafeteria, a halfway decent cup of tea and something of the chocolate oeuvre uppermost in her mind. It's her first day back and her feet haven't touched the ground. Just as well really because being busy stops her from thinking about anything else, namely the weirdo from the locker room.

She sees him across the busy cafeteria. He's alone at a table, a cup in front of him and he's frowning down at an open newspaper, a look of utter concentration on his face. It looks intimidating.

Mitchell lifts and turns his head when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. His eyes widen when he sees Shannon standing by his table, carrying two cups.

"Anyone sitting here?" she indicates the vacant chair opposite him and dumbly he shakes his head, still surprised to see her standing there as large as life. He watches her slide into the seat and she pushes one of the cups towards him and he frowns at it.

"To say thank you. You helped me out back there the other night, I really appreciated it" she informs him and he lifts his head slightly and looks at her again.

"It's okay" he mumbles and he glances away. She regards him.

"No it wasn't. I don't know what drugs she was on but if you hadn't shown up when you did then it would've been much much worse" she answers in a soft voice. Mitchell looks at her, at the open expression on her face. She has golden brown eyes and a few light freckles dust the bridge of her nose. She smiles at him.

"How are you?" he asks, the question almost bursting out of him and her eyes widen slightly.

"I'm…okay I suppose, I ended up with three stitches in the back of my head and a headache for a couple of days but I'm fine" she answers. He regards her. Her fiery coloured hair is pinned back out of the way and he can see a pale blue t-shirt peeking above the v shaped neckline of her scrub top. He can also see the fading yellow- green bruises marking the front of her throat like an obscene necklace.

"I'm glad…that you're okay" he tacks on at her look of surprise and she bites back a smile and lifts her cup and takes a sip of her tea. Mitchell follows suit. Her small act of kindness has touched him more than he'll admit. He's used to being treated as being part of the bottom rung of the hospital hierarchy, ignored or berated by those considered 'above' him.

"And thank you…for the tea" he adds. Her eyes warm slightly and she inclines her head just the once. Mitchell watches her and then places his cup on the table.

"Did you talk to the police about what happened?" he asks in a quiet voice and he watches how she looks at him.

"Someone came to take my statement, I think his name was…Herrick or someone" she watches how a tiny frown appears between his eyebrows.

"Do you know him?" His gaze bounces away from her face and he just shakes his head.

"What did this girl look like? I remember you saying that it was a woman" Shannon sighs raggedly and curls her hands around her cup and her expression becomes far away.

"Maybe an inch taller than me, thin, very pale, doll like blue eyes, thick black hair. She was very pretty, she could've been a model but her perfume was…off" she frowns as the thought occurs to her and she look at Mitchell again. He's regarding her with breath-stealing intensity, still frowning and it does look intimidating. She swallows.

"Off?" Shannon blinks and gives her head a little shake.

"Umm…yeah it was…unusual. She looked barely eighteen years old and girls of that age, they're influenced by what they see on TV, in magazines but she was wearing perfume that her granny might wear, it was sweet…flowery, like…violets or something" Mitchell straightens in his seat as a memory flashes through him and his eyes go wide.

"What's the matter?" his attention flicks back to Shannon. He blinks and then focuses on her.

"What?"

"Just the expression on your face, it was like you knew who I was talking about?" she sits back slightly and regards him warily "you don't, do you?"

"No. Of course not" he replies. All of a sudden his brain is busy, going back to an era when he was at his absolute worst, when he was set upon making a name, a reputation for himself and he had, oh how he had. He swallows. No, it can't be, as far as he knows, she's dead though he didn't stick around to witness it for himself.

"It was her eyes that stick in my mind the most" he pays attention to her voice as she begins to speak again.

"What about them?" he sees how she looks down at her cup, her cheeks flushing a faint pink colour.

"I never even told the policeman…but her eyes were… weird…they were all black and shiny. I've seen what drugs can do to a person, you name it and I've seen it but that…I've never seen that before" she admits and she glances up at him and she sees his thoughtful expression.

"You think I was hallucinating it don't you? Because that's what I think it was, she almost choked me to death and I think what I saw was just a figment of my imagination. I feel daft talking about it out loud" she confides with an embarrassed shrug. He doesn't reply, instead he just watches her.

"And now you think I'm mad" she tacks on and lifts her cup and she takes a drink, her eyes everywhere but on him. He takes a slow breath and he counts to three.

"No, I don't think you're mad. Like you say, you've seen a lot of things" he replies and her smile in response is soft, almost grateful.

"It feels odd just saying it out loud though" she admits. She watches him lift his cup again.

"How are you finding the job?" she asks him and she sees the spark of surprise in his eyes.

"You're new, I notice stuff like that" she tells him with a small shrug. He swallows his mouthful of tea carefully.

"I'm surprised, aren't porters considered the bottom feeders of the hospital social scale?" he enquires mildly and she bites back a smile.

"Depends on who you talk to"

"Well, right now I'm talking to you" he reminds her and she sees a glint of humour in his eyes.

"Personally speaking, without porters, we would gradually grind to a halt. I'll never admit this to anyone else but without you lot we wouldn't get anything or anyone anywhere and I think we'd drown in a lake of other people's variety of bodily functions. Sorry" she apologises as he grimaces.

"Nah, it's okay, you're right, in our own way we keep things going" he agrees with a casual shrug.

"Some of us do appreciate it" he looks at her and there's a wry glint in his eyes.

"I wish the doctors did sometimes, are they all complete arseholes or I have I just been extremely unlucky?" his voice lowers confidentially and Shannon chuckles.

"I don't know, it depends on who you've had the misfortune to run into but most of them are ego maniacs with a serious God complex" she answers on a whisper. She watches a smile bloom across Mitchell's face which he quickly hides.

"I'll be sure to keep that in mind" he watches as she drains her cup and at the same time she glances at her watch. Her eyes widen very slightly.

"And on that note, I must go. Thank you again Mitchell" she gets to her feet and with a little wave she's striding through the cafeteria and out again.

He watches her every step.

Her shift is finally over. She's shattered and she prefers the idea of a hot meal and a hot bath over a couple of pints in the nearby pub with a few of her colleagues. They all have their different methods of unwinding after a rough day, hers don't involve copious amounts of alcohol. She pauses at the entrance and stares out across the car park. A cold wind ruffles her hair and she feels it chase down her spine. She shivers and frowns slightly. She doesn't think of herself as particularly nervous but since the attack in the locker room last week, she's beginning to think twice. She turns her head and sees Abby with the rest of the crowd who are planning to go to the pub and she contemplates joining them after all.

"Shannon?" she turns her head when she hears Mitchell's voice and he's heading towards her, zipping up his jacket and he's frowning.

"Is everything alright?" he enquires and he pauses beside her. She looks up at his face and then briefly at Abby and her friends. He follows her gaze.

"Oh…Night then" Mitchell goes to walk past but at the last minute she reaches out and grabs his upper arm. He looks down at it and then at her face.

"Want to grab something to eat? A pizza or something?" she asks. She sees the shock cross his face. She lets go of his arm and begins to shake her head.

"It doesn't matter, it was just a suggestion, forget I said anything, you're probably busy anyway" she smiles at him and starts to turn towards Abby.

"Actually I'm not…busy that is. Okay, pizza" he agrees and she looks back at him. She smiles once more and takes a step towards him.

"Great. I know this excellent place not far from here" she tells him and together they leave the hospital building.

"I have a car…" he begins and she flashes another smile at him.

"Okay" she looks up as it begins to rain and she grimaces as the first rain drops spatter against her skin.

"Good timing" she adds on as it gets heavier and she follows him across the car park.

She looks at the car he stops beside, it's a Volvo, an old style car, it looks a little at odds next to the more modern cars parked around them.

"You like classic cars" she comments as he unlocks his side. He looks down at the vehicle for a moment and then a small smile crosses his face before it disappears.

"Something like that" he replies and he gets in. She waits as he leans across and unlocks her side and she opens it and climbs in.

She glances at him as she fastens her seatbelt. Everything about the interior screams retro. It's also surprisingly tidy. From past experience, a few cars she's had a lift in have been glorified road skips on wheels but this one is much tidier. She can smell leather and cigarette smoke and something else that she's not familiar with. He starts the car and the engine roars to life.

"Are you from round here?" he asks as he joins the queue of cars exiting the hospital grounds. She glances at him.

"London" she replies and he glances at her.

"So what are you doing in Bristol?"

"A change of scenery, why does anyone ever leave their home town?" she turns her head and looks at the rain splattering against the windscreen, she watches the wipers swish across the glass.

"I suppose for new opportunities but isn't the Smoke considered the centre of the universe here?" she looks at him once more.

"Maybe for those who don't actually have to live there, for those of us that do, well maybe somewhere…smaller is what we need. What about you?"

"What about me?"

"Well you're not obviously local" she grins and he smiles very faintly.

"How did you guess?" he teases and she chuckles. He watches her reaction and he feels the familiarity, the ease of it. Once upon a time teasing a woman to laughter was as easy as breathing to him. Judging by her smile, it still is.

"Oh I don't know, just an idea" she answers lightly and his smile widens. He looks away from her face as the car crawls a few more feet forward.

"So why?" she presses and he looks at her once more. He shrugs.

"Job opportunities, I had the prospect of bettering myself and I took it, didn't look back"

"Did it work out for you?" she watches his expression alter very slightly as what looks almost like sadness flashes across his face.

"Depends on who you ask, it did change my life in ways that I never could imagine"

"Do you regret it?" the car crawls to the front of the queue and Mitchell turns his head, concentrating on the traffic in front of him.

"Sometimes" he mutters, he sees a gap in the traffic and pulls out, halting any further conversation on the subject. Shannon regards him curiously. He glances back at her and his eyes still on her face.

"What?" she just shakes her head. She then points ahead.

"Nothing. Pizza restaurant is further along this road, Silvio's" she informs him.

"Okay"

It's late when he pulls up outside of her house. It stopped raining sometime during the evening and the streets gleam wetly beneath the orange sodium lighting. Mitchell watches as Shannon unbuckles her seatbelt and gathers her bag closer to her. She looks at him and she smiles.

"Tonight was fun Mitchell" she tells him and her smile is shy.

"It was" he agrees. It had been. They'd split a large pizza, shared a couple of beers and they had talked about all kinds of things. She'd been good company though the throb of her pulse beat had been a distinct distraction. Apart from that it had all been incredibly…normal.

"Thanks for the lift, you didn't have to but I appreciate it" he just nods. Her gaze rests on his face and then darts nervously away.

"I'll see you at work, yeah?" he suggests and she nods rapidly.

"I'd better get going" Mitchell just nods and watches as she gets out. He waits as she hurries along the path and lets herself into her house. Once he knows she's inside, he pulls away.

He parks the car and gets out. He locks the door and for a moment he pauses and lifts his face to the navy blue sky. The air smells cleaner, fresher after the recent rain and he fills his lungs. Maybe tonight he'll sleep better. He's enjoyed spending time with Shannon; it had been fun spending time with someone human and not spend the evening figuring out ways to get her alone so that he can feed. Carl had said that one day he'll be able to do that without thinking.

"She's a pretty thing that redhead" Mitchell flinches when he hears Herrick's voice. Slowly he turns and sees him standing beside the passenger door.

"What do you want?" Mitchell demands in a low voice and Herrick widens his eyes.

"What? No hug of welcome? I'm hurt" he answers.

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit tonight" he tells him and watches him walk around the car and towards him. Herrick pauses and the two vampires regard each other.

"No, you were in the mood for a pretty little redhead in a pizza restaurant. I'm surprised you let her go, she was lovely" his words trail away at the vehement expression that develops on Mitchell's face. He sighs melodramatically.

"Fine, have it your way, if you're still determined to be human and ignore your true calling then who am I to stand in your noble way?" he leans up against the driver's door and he folds his arms.

"But imagine my surprise when she told me last week that a porter by the name of Mitchell came to her aid last week. Are you planning to add knight in shining armour to your resume now soldier? Do you think it'll really go with the whole vampire mass killer section? Somehow I don't think she'll quite understand that bit" he straightens up.

"Your lovely friend also told me that her attacker possessed surprising strength, almost lifted her clean off her feet without much effort, I wonder how she could've managed that?" he lifts a speculative eyebrow

"She was probably an addict looking for a fix" Mitchell hedges.

"Oh I don't doubt it but for a fix of what? Let's not beat around the bush here Mitchell, we both know what she was and that she was hungry. From your friend's description she doesn't sound familiar and I happen to know just about every vampire in this area. Any ideas?" as he expects, Mitchell shakes his head.

"I stay out of all of that now Herrick" he tells him in a low voice. Herrick regards him and sighs loudly.

"So you say but somehow it always finds you. You can't escape from it, no matter how hard you try"

"I'm clean; I'm not getting involved again. I don't know who she was"

"Mitchell…you know sobriety isn't your strong point. We've done this merry little dance once before and we both remember what a rip-roaring success that was. Why don't you come back to the fold? We could do with you, with your…experience. All of this, this decency just isn't you is it? It grates against your soul" he watches him shake his head and tightly fold his arms. His shoulders come up and he recognises it for the defensive mechanism that it is.

"Not happening. I mean it this time" he frowns at him.

"You said that the last time too Mitchell. Never mind, I'm a patient man; I've found out that I have to be where you're concerned." Herrick straightens up.

"I'll be seeing you soldier" he tells him quietly. Mitchell doesn't move as he watches him walk away and melt into the shadows once more.