Chapter 3-

Mitchell lay on his bed, smoking a cigarette and staring at the ceiling. He had just left Danni back at the hospital after persuading her to abandon her rooftop hideout and go back inside to get warm and fed. She had just told him the details surrounding her brother's death and the extenuating circumstances that landed her in the hospital. It all made sense to him why she was so hard and distant. She had been betrayed by a person she thought she loved and who she believed loved her in return. That was something he could easily relate to having been on the receiving and delivery end of both. It was funny that the things Danni thought would turn someone away were actually traits that Mitchell understood and accepted; the fear of letting people in after getting hurt; the cynicism toward love; the wanting to strike first before being struck.

He sat up and put out his smoke, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Glancing at the clock he saw it was well past midnight but his need for caffeine was calling and so he trooped downstairs to make a cup. Not wanting to wake his flatmates he made sure to tread lightly as he passed their rooms. Reaching the stairs he was greeted by one of them who never slept anyway.

"Annie, Jesus, you scared the hell out of me," he said.

"That's kind of my job, isn't it?" she replied.

"Funny." He swept past her and continued to the kitchen, putting a kettle on for water. Coming to stand beside him, Annie took over getting a mug and the coffee ready for the making, brushing Mitchell aside.

"Go sit down, "she ordered. "You know I like doing this. It makes me feel normal."

Mitchell did as he was told and took a place at the table. He clasped his hands and leaned his chin on them, going into deep thought. Danni Robson entering his life at this point in time seemed to almost be an omen. For the past months he had been struggling with his own sobriety, so to speak, on a daily basis. He was so wrapped up in his own head that to be diverted by someone else and their drama was welcome. What he didn't expect were these other feelings that seemed to be resurrected. The last time he felt those emotions was decades ago when another girl tried to save him from himself and for a time it worked. She was probably the only person he truly loved and because of that love, he gave her up. He didn't want to drag her into the darkness that was his life.

Now there was Danni; a broken, hardened young woman, who is a reflection of himself all those years ago. And somewhere in the still human part of his being, Mitchell felt that he could try and save her. He thought about how exactly he could do that when Annie place the mug of black coffee in front of him. She took a seat opposite and watched as he sipped the steaming brew. Mitchell didn't take notice of her until he heard her clear her throat and looked at her over the cup.

"What?" he asked annoyed.

"Who is she?" Annie asked.

"Who is who? I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh come on Mitchell. You're brooding more than usual. That usually means a girl is involved. So who is she? Where did you meet her?" Annie was persistent in her questions and Mitchell knew it.

"God, can't I have any kind of private life?"

Annie tilted her head and raised an eyebrow knowing that question was redundant in this house. So she waited for him to answer.

"Fine. She's just someone I met the other night at the hospital," he explained.

"Oh lord not another Lauren. Or worse, Lucy. Mitchell, please do not tell me you've become interested in another staff member."

"Actually if you must know she's a patient," he admitted.

Annie sat back and looked at him trying to figure out exactly what he was doing. It was bad enough when he was involved with Lauren. That relationship was complicated and based on an event which Mitchell still regretted because it ultimately led to Lauren's death. It was not something they discussed but she knew he still carried the guilt of it all. As for Lucy, there was just something desperate about that woman that both she and their other flatmate, George, could not figure out but definitely didn't like. Luckily Mitchell did not fall for her tactics of trying to seduce him and so gave her the brush off. Annie knew he was lonely and struggling with his demons but there was not much she or George could do but wondered if getting involved with someone new was the way to handle it.

She was about to say something when George walked into the kitchen. The deafening silence and sight of Mitchell seemingly upset alerted George that something was wrong.

"What's going on?" he asked as he went to put the kettle on again.

Mitchell appeared to not hear him so Annie piped up with an answer.

"Seems Mitchell here has met a woman," she said with just a touch of sarcasm.

George stopped making his own cup of tea and turned to look at his friends sitting at the table. He glanced from one to the other and back again waiting for some explanation.

"Is someone going to tell me who?" he asked.

Mitchell looked up at him and then gave an exasperated look to Annie. He didn't want to get into this with either of them but apparently, they had no secrets between them so he felt obligated to fill them in on just the basics.

"Alright. She was in an accident the other night. Almost hit by a car while on a bike. Her name is Danni."

He stopped there because he didn't want to go into the details of everything with them just yet.

"That's it?"Annie questioned. She felt there was more.

"Danni?" George asked. "What is she twelve?"

Mitchell glared at George, annoyed at his friend's attitude and was now sorry that he mentioned it at all. He knew he should keep it quiet.

"I don't know how old she is but she's not twelve. And I would appreciate it if you would give me some credit. Granted that the fact that I haven't had a great track record would make you doubt this but she's-different," Mitchell said.

George was skeptical but saw that his friend was sincere. He moved to sit down at the table with the others and gave a warning look to Annie; she had a tendency to speak her mind when least wanted. He looked at Mitchell and saw that something was different in him as well. He was reserved about this news.

"Well then, I'm happy for you Mitchell," George said.

Mitchell was surprised at his friend's support. "Really?"

"Yes. You need someone," George offered.

"Oh, I'm sure he needs someone, George. Don't all men need someone? But you know how things can go wonky with Mitchell," Annie said.

Both Mitchell and George were incredulous at her statement.

"For you information, "Mitchell started, "I have been doing just find dealing with the need, Annie as you so delicately put it. This has nothing to do with sex. Or other things."

He stood up, went to the sink and put his cup in there. With his back to the others, he hung his head because he knew that their fears were not totally without merit yet he was determined to make this, whatever this was, work with Danni. Turning around his face relaxed as he gave a sincere plea to his friends.

"Look I know that you are both only trying to show concern for me. But I'm okay. Danni is just a friend. Maybe not even that because we just met and didn't exactly get off on the right foot. Who knows where this will go? I know that she's hurt and she could use a friend. So could I. And I understand her. I don't know why but I do. So please, just stop worrying. And trust me," Mitchell asked.

Annie and George bristled at the statement that he could use a friend but saw that he wanted their approval. Not that he needed it but that he wanted it. George got up and went to him.

"Whatever you decide to do, we're here for you. Right, Annie?" George looked at Annie and raised his eyebrows encouraging her to join them.

"Yeah. What George said. Whatever you need we're here for you," Annie said. The lack of enthusiasm was overwhelming.

"Thanks," Mitchell said knowing that Annie was not happy with his news.

He started for the door and stopped to get his keys.

"I'm off to the hospital," he said.

"To see Danni?" Annie said dripping with disapproval.

"To go to work," Mitchell corrected.

With one more look at them, Mitchell opened the door and headed out into the dark. For the first time in a while, he felt optimistic and looking forward to work.

Danni was sitting up in bed, her legs crossed under her as she tried to go through her bag in an attempt to find clothes that she could wear out of the hospital. So far she's come up with a pair of jeans and a questionable scented t-shirt. Her hoodie and jacket were taken when she came in. She wondered if maybe Mitchell could scout around for it. Since last night when they had talked Danni felt a small sense of peace. It was the first time she had shared the whole story of Chris's death, her relationship with Jake and the actions that led to her accident with someone. She didn't expect to bare her soul to a total stranger and yet Mitchell didn't feel like a stranger. He felt like someone she'd known forever and for Danni that was a rare find. Of course, she never made things easy when she met new people. Being betrayed and taken for a fool tends to put you on alert.

What was different about Mitchell was that he didn't try to make a move on her. Initially, she wasn't sure if she should be flattered or insulted. Usually, men fell over themselves trying to impress her which most of the time worked in the opposite way. But when he touched her, Danni felt a spark. It wasn't like what she felt with Jake which she now realized was just a childish infatuation. Deep down she came to see that she didn't even like Jake so when she found him in bed with Trix a part of her was relieved. If that didn't happen she might still be stuck in that relationship, miserable and fighting. Even the sex wasn't all that great. That thought brought a wry smile to her face as she thought about encounters she'd had after that which made her admit she and Jake really weren't compatible on any level.

During her time in Australia, she met and slept with a few men. Some lasting a few weeks, some not even lasting the night. She never thought of herself as easy but it seemed that since Chris's death there was nothing to ground her; to keep her stable. She had no family, no friends, and no ties so she looked for something to hold on to in men. It was hard for her to make friends with women because she was seen as a "guy's girl" as she got along better with men than women. They often saw her as a threat to their relationships and Danni just had to laugh. If she wanted one of those men she could get them but she wouldn't do what those women were afraid of having been on the receiving end of that.

Laying the jeans and shirt on the bed she looked in the bag for some underwear and luckily found a pair of purple boy shorts and a sports bra. Looking at her clothes she wondered how she was going to get dressed with a semi-useless arm. She was getting used to the cast but it still made it difficult to maneuver. Tilting her head back on the pillows she closed her eyes and thought about her other dilemma. She had clothes but she had no place to go. She couldn't and wouldn't go back to Chris's flat. Hell Danni didn't even know if it still existed. She had no friends and no family around so basically, she was homeless and without her bike virtually trapped in this hospital. Without warning, she started to cry. Danni silently allowed the tears to fall down her cheek, the coolness of the moisture soothing her, acting like a balm. They caressed her face as her mother used to do with a damp cloth when she was upset or ill. She didn't move to wipe them away, wanting them to dry on her skin so she could feel them a bit longer.

"Hey?" the soft Irish voice said.

Danni lifted her head as she opened her eyes slowly to gaze at who was speaking. Her eyes were puffy from crying and Mitchell, for a moment, didn't know what to do. His instinct was to run to her and take her in his arms so he could hold her. The other side of his brain told him to wait until invited because Danni was not a girl who like having her space invaded without warning. They stared at each other for a minute before Danni let out another sob and Mitchell went with his instinct. Leaving the mop and bucket at the door, he flew to her side, wrapping her in his arms as he took a seat next to her on the bed. Careful not to crush her arm between them, he held it instead, his fingers holding hers lightly as his other arm held her against his chest.

For the second time in as many nights, Danni sobbed into Mitchell's shirt.

"At least this time it's a work shirt," he said.

The joke was not lost on Danni and pulling her head up she looked into his eyes and he smiled. Sniffling hard, Mitchell reached behind him to the side table and got a tissue. Holding it up to her nose, he made her blow before she took it and finished the job herself. He handed her another one as she handed him the dirty one.

"Good thing I'm wearing gloves," Mitchell teased as Danni looked up at him and smiled from behind the paper.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't think-I mean I usually don't-oh shit, I don't know what I'm saying."

"Hey, Danni it's okay. I'm a hospital porter. I've clean up bodily fluids way worse than this," he said.

She took a breath and after holding out her hand for another tissue started to laugh.

"That's right. I forgot the glamorous job you had. This must seem pretty ordinary to you," she replied.

"Yes too ordinary. I like the exploding poo or projectile vomit most of the time," he snapped back.

Mitchell made a move to stand up, the joke no longer funny. He stood by the bed, peeling off his gloves to dump in the waste basket when Danni reached up to grasp his wrist.

"I'm sorry. Mitchell, please don't go," she cried.

It was a plea, something that Mitchell was sure she didn't do on a regular basis. He stopped moving and looking down at her hand holding his wrist felt the warmth transferring from her body to his. The current between them was fluid and he knew felt by both of them because he heard Danni's breath hitch. Mitchell looked up into her face and put his hand over hers, squeezing it in return.

"I'm not going anywhere. I promise," Mitchell said quietly.

"Good because I don't think I could deal with someone else leaving me. Even if it is you and we've only just met," she croaked out.

Mitchell searched her face as she spoke and saw vulnerability. It touched something that he hadn't remembered he had inside him in a quite awhile. He wanted to help and protect her. But not take her. It was a strange feeling for him; to feel this close to someone on such a human level without the thirst that often rose soon after meeting a new person. Danni didn't rouse that hunger in him. It's not that he wasn't attracted to her for she was beautiful and feisty. Plus she didn't take any bullshit which he quite liked. He was willing to put his addiction aside to get closer this girl and see why she was brought into his life.

"I must look awful," she said as she tried to dry her eyes with the end of the sheet.

Mitchell watched her, amused at her little kid routine before he got her the entire box of Kleenex and dropped it in front of her. Taking out a tissue, he reached up and dabbed her eyes himself, catching the stray moisture on the paper.

"You look fine," he murmured. "Beautiful."

The last word said under his breath but Danni heard it anyway. She said nothing but allowed him to touch her. She couldn't remember the last time someone showed such tenderness towards her. Perhaps it was her mother when she was still in school and cried herself to sleep when she was teased. Danni felt some odd and symbiotic connection with this man who seemed older than his years but looked no older than most of the guys she road with. She knew he had demons and maybe it was the fact that he was not perfect which put her at ease. There were no expectations to live up to which was good. Danni had no expectations of herself or life. She existed but wasn't living and she wanted to live. She wanted to see and experience things that made her feel because right now she was numb. And, as she just remembered, homeless. Danni didn't want to tell him about her situation because it might look like a stab for attention. Yet she needed to tell someone that when she got out in the next day she had no place to go.

"Mitchell? Can I ask you something?" she said.

Danni kept her head down and traced patterns on her cast with the finger of her other hand. For the first time, Mitchell could see some of the tattoos that covered her arm. There was a random display of flowers and shadowed black vines that seemed to intertwine from her wrist to her.

"What does your tattoo mean?" he asked as his hand went to outline the pictures on her skin.

Danni felt a chill run up her spine as she kept her eyes on his hand while it left feather light impressions on her arm. She was afraid to look him in the eye because she was sure he would see that she was becoming very attracted to him.

"Nothing much. The flowers are for my mother and the rest was done during various alleycat runs, parties, and impulses."

"Interesting. Do you usually just do things on a whim or impulse?" he asked.

Mitchell was finding out that Danni was more like him than he originally thought. She seemed to live each day as it came, with no plans or expectations. He, on the other hand, learned long ago that the old phrase that included "the best-laid plans" was very true. Making plans often led to disappointment or failure. Better to handle things as they arose hope for the best rather than have hopes dashed, especially if those plans relied on the actions of others. He couldn't count the number of times he had pinned his future on someone else just to have it get mucked up forcing him to regroup and start again. It was only in the past few years, after meeting George and Annie that he found a small sense of stability which allowed him to try and live a human life, including making plans for a future. Now as he stared at Danni, who obviously had something on her mind, he wondered if that future included her in some way. Of all the traits he and his flatmates had, being psychic wasn't one of them.

"What?" Danni asked. She was caught off guard by his question because she was focused on getting his help with her housing situation.

"Impulsiveness? Is it something you practice regularly?"

"It seems to be genetic. My brother's impulsiveness got him killed and well, as for me-. Let's just say if I took the time to think I'd probably not be here but I would be bored."

She tried to make it a joke but failed. Danni could see that Mitchell wasn't buying her attempt at humor.

"Then I must carry the same gene because for most of my life I've lived without a map," he said almost wistfully.

Danni saw a change come over his face as he seemed to remember something in the past.

"How's that worked out for you?" she said, trying to provoke an answer out of him.

Mitchell didn't know why she was turning the conversation but he wanted to see what she was about and played along.

"I've had good days and bad days," he said.

"And today?" she asked.

"I don't know yet. Maybe it will depend on what you want to ask me. I distracted you before. What is it you want, Danni?"

Now Danni was embarrassed because she felt she was about to intrude on this person who she was beginning to like and who was becoming a friend. Or so she hoped. She bent her head down, focusing on her fingers, the streaks of pink hair becoming visible amongst her natural red. Mitchell could see whatever she wanted to say was not going to be easy so he bided his time until she wanted to talk by picking up a strand of the fuchsia locks and played with it gently. Danni felt the slight tug on her head and lifted it to look at her tormentor.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"How do you get the red hair to turn pink?"

Danni pulled his hand off her head but didn't let go. Her fingers automatically threaded with his as she spoke, with Mitchell squeezing her hand ever so slightly.

"It's called dye. I'm sure you've heard of it," she retorted.

"Doesn't it come out when you wash your hair? You do wash your hair don't you?" he teased.

"Yes, genius. It doesn't look like the same could be said for you," she said as she pulled on one of the wayward curls falling across his forehead.

"I'll have you know my hair is envied by many people, "Mitchell replied, pulled his hair out of her hand.

"Really? Are these people bald?"

Mitchell pulled away from her and couldn't help but laugh as he saw the teasing look on her face.

"Now it seems you are diverting from whatever it is you want to ask me. I thought we were friends, Danni. Please tell me what's on your mind," he said, the tone turning serious again.

Danni searched his face, zoning in on his eyes and saw the sincerity in them. She truly believed this John Mitchell was no ordinary man and he was brought into her life for a reason. She just didn't know what that was, but his reaction to what she was about to tell him might shed some light on that.

"Do you think you could look around and see if they put my jacket somewhere?" she asked.

Her voice was small and she didn't look at him when she spoke. Mitchell knew that was not what she wanted to say but he left it alone for the moment as he rose and went to the small closet in the corner of the room. There he pulled out a drawstring plastic bag with her name on it. Placing it on the bed, he opened it and pulled out the jacket she had been asking about as well as her shoes.

He said nothing but waited for her thanks.

"Why didn't you tell me it was here all the time?" she said as she picked up the jacket and held it to her chest.

"I thought you knew. So now that I've solved your problem I should get back to work. I'll make sure to stop by before you get sprung tomorrow, ok?"

Mitchell was at the door gathering his equipment when Danni yelled out to him.

"Mitchell wait!" He turned and came back to her seeing the distress on her face.

"What is it?" Mitchell was getting impatient. "Danni, will you just say what you need to say? Believe me, I've heard it all."

Danni took a breath and spit out her dilemma.

"I don't have any place to go," she cried. Tears again flowed as she put her face in her hands and sobbed.

Mitchell stared at her not sure he heard her right.

"What do you mean? When you get released? Don't you have any friends?" he asked.

Danni shook her head in response.

"No," she croaked out. "I don't. And I won't go back to Chris's flat. So that's why I needed the jacket. In case I'm out on the streets tomorrow looking for a place to stay."

At first, Mitchell thought maybe she was being dramatic but from the little time he spent with her, he knew Danni Robson was not a drama queen. She was blunt, honest and proud so he knew this must be killing her.

"Danni, why didn't you say something sooner?" He spoke as he walked back to her bedside again taking up residence next to her.

"I just did. I didn't realize it until last night and I wasn't really in the mood to ask for help then," she said.

"It's not a crime to ask for help from a friend," Mitchell said.

"Are you my friend?" Her question was said softly almost to herself.

"I am. And as luck would have it there is room in my house for one more. That is if you're ok with another flatmate." His voice was light and eased the tension. Danni breathed a sigh of relief that the question was out there and it didn't send him running.

"So, me and two guys? Well, that should solidify my reputation. Are you sure it's okay? And I promise it will only be temporary until I can start working again."

She sounded hopeful and Mitchell loved that a smile came to her face.

"Don't worry about it. George will love some new company. I think he gets tired of just us being around," Mitchell offered.

"George? Is he your other flatmate?"

"Yes. We met a few years ago. He's pretty much my only friend."

Danni cleared her throat waiting for him to realize what he said.

"Until I met you," he corrected.

"Thank you."

"So, tomorrow when they let you go, you'll come home with me. And then we will see about everything else, alright?"

Mitchell lifted his hand to touch her face and turn it to him. There was a moment between them that could not be denied but neither of them made the next obvious move. Instead, Danni put her hand on his and smiled.

"Yes. I'll just let things happen. No plans for now. That always seems to get me in trouble," she said softly.

"Me too," Mitchell agreed.

Mitchell's thumb grazed her cheek ever so lightly as if trying to memorize her features. His eyes took in her whole face and settled on those clear blue orbs of hers that seemed like deep reflective pools of water. He felt himself falling into them again but unlike connections of the past, he didn't feel the standard trepidation that this might be the wrong thing to do.

"Seems we are two of kind John Mitchell," she said as the shiest of smiles came across her face.

"I believe you're right, Danielle Robson."