Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, they own me. Special thanks to Toby Whithouse and BBC3 for the playground.

Thanks, as always to you dear reader. Your enthusiasm keeps me going. Extra nod to TangentiallyTJ & Whimsyfox for the beta.

The reception phone clattered early in the morning, the bright bells ringing up through the house to wake its residents. Tom stirred and stretched. His muscles were stiff and sore, but he felt good. Their run last night had been necessary exercise for him as much as Hal. Glancing at his clock which told him it was barely past eight, Tom cursed whatever tele-marketer had the audacity to ring so early. It was a Friday, but still.

Friday. He had to go meet with catering at the hotel this afternoon.

Bringing his hand to his face he prodded where Hal had punched him. It was tender, but didn't feel too bad. Tom stepped out of bed to look in the mirror though, curious. He could see it without even getting close. Werewolves healed faster than humans, but unfortunately not fast enough to undo the massive black eye he was sporting.

Knowing that getting his blood flowing could help accelerate the healing process, Tom decided to start his day.

In the attic Hal & Alex both woke with the ringing of the phone. Hal's hand still rested in hers but he slipped free to look at his watch. He had overslept. Sitting upright even, which surprised him. That was twice now with her. Hal knew it was probably her warmth. She snuggled into him and he actually had to resist the urge to stay.

Hal pulled his arm free and she straightened with a startled face as he brushed past her. He bent to gather the two teacups before meeting her eyes. Her hair was tousled and unbelievably, one cheek was reddened from where she had pressed against him. She was looking at him expectantly.

"This doesn't change anything. I still have to go -"

"Do your thing? Yeh, alright." He gave her a small nod and then turned to leave. She stretched and stood herself, almost following him out of the habit of the past week. But then she stopped. He would never start trusting himself if they couldn't.

Alex stood in the middle of the room and listened to his footsteps recede. She listened to him in the bath and she heard him return to his room, closing the door. He would be in there for an hour at least. Idly, she wondered if his hand would be steadier over his dominoes.

"Well good morning shiner!" She teased Tom who was sitting at the breakfast table eating cereal. He was dressed and showered and sporting a totally bright bruise under his eye.

"S'not funny," Tom looked genuinely worried. "I've got me second interview today – wot am I s'posed to tell them? My housemate punched me because I wouldn't let him attack his girlfriend? Sounds right mental. Where's Hal?"

Alex made a face and sat down next to him to look a little closer. "Upstairs," she said casually. "Did he call me that?"

"Well, no..." Tom started to blush before he thought it best to change the subject. "You trust him on his own?"

"You realise just how easily he could have taken off last night, right?"

"Naw – we would have caught him if it came to that. I know those woods loads better than he does. And you were dead fast!" Alex grinned at that. She had truly loved it. Running as a ghost was like running in dreams. Tom continued, "But you think he's a'right, yeah?"

"Yeah. I do," Alex looked to her fingers, twirling the rings with her thumb. "He's got a ways to go yet... but the running really may help."

"Well... we shan't go back out for a few days 'cos the weekend. And we should set a course making sure I intercept you again. Last night we got lucky."

"That we did," Hal appeared in the doorway. He certainly knew how to descend the stairs far quieter than Tom. "I cannot believe I allowed you to talk me into that. Just look at your face."

Alex laughed. He probably had meant to be serious but she couldn't help it. She smiled warmly at him but he merely made for the counter, reaching for the bread and a cup of tea. So they would be back to indifference, it seemed. Instead of letting it bother her, she returned her attention to Tom.

"We could try to cover it up. Your face, I mean," Alex offered. He raised an eyebrow. "There's some makeup in the cupboard upstairs."

"Would that really work?" Tom asked.

"I could give it a go."

"Wicked," Tom gulped his tea. Alex relinquished her seat in order to rent-a-ghost up to the bath. When she left, Tom looked to Hal, wondering if last night had actually helped him at all. "You think it's going to work?"

"Her makeup job?" Hal cut one piece of toast perfectly in half and Tom gave him a look, "Or the 'facing my demon' nonsense?" Tom sighed at him exasperatedly, but Hal set a cup of tea and his toast at the table before continuing. "I don't rightly know. It's a nice idea."

Taking a seat, Hal reached for the paper just as Alex reappeared with a ladies zippered bag and a bottle of lotion.

"Alright – turn your chair to face the light."

"Wot – right now?"

"Yeh – I want'ta see if it'll work. Come on, scoot."

Tom reluctantly obliged and Alex whipped a chair around to face him. She straddled it, intending to rest her arm on the back for steadiness. Setting out the various makeup cases, she could feel Hal watching her over his paper.

"Now you're gonna have'ta hold still," She instructed Tom. This actually wasn't the first time she had attempted to cover up a black eye. Her Da' hadn't approved of fisticuffs, but Ryan was always getting in scuffles nonetheless. Her heart panged but she put it aside. Ryan was fine. Knowing him, he was probably rocking his mis-spelt tattoo as being on purpose.

"Oi – that's cold!" Tom protested, much to Hal's obvious amusement. He gave a little chuckle before turning the paper.

Alex was halfway through getting Tom's bruised face presentable when the reception phone trilled again. All three of them looked to each other before Hal folded the paper and stood up to answer it.

"Let it ring Hal – it's just a marketer."

"And they'll just keep calling until we tell them not to," he answered, already halfway there. "Hello?" Alex continued blending lotion-lightened concealer into Tom's cheekbones, but they were both listening. "No, he's not available. May I take a message?" Hal's phone voice somehow managed to be even more posh. "Yes. Thank you very much."

He returned to the kitchen holding a piece of note paper with his precise script.

"Well. What'd they want?" Alex asked while she blended a little shadow under Tom's un-bruised eye.

Hal looked up from his note and asked, "Are we current on our rent?" Tom nodded and Alex turned. "Because interestingly enough, our letting agency would appreciate it if George Sands could return their call."

"But George is gone," Tom said sadly.

"I'm aware of that. They obviously are not." Hal set the note down on the table but didn't return to his seat. "Are you actually on the lease here, Tom?"

Tom cocked his head, "Lease? Naw, Annie only let me move in after-"

"So neither of us are on the lease."

"S'alright as long as we keep paying the monthly... right?"

Hal gave him an incredulous look. "Unless they find out and evict us without notice. Or evict George Sands for illegal sublet."

"But how would they know? It's not like they come around," Alex noted.

"How indeed," Hal brooded for a minute. "No. We can fix this." He looked up. "Call them back and pretend to be George. See what they want. Maybe the furnace just needs service or something. And then ask if you can add a new flat mate to the lease."

"Wot? And then add myself?" Tom barked a laugh.

"They should just send over a form to sign." And with that, Hal pushed the note paper to Tom. He started to reach for it but Alex protested.

"Hold it – almost done."

Hal gave up on the news headings and started clearing the table for washing up. Alex stood to admire her work. Rather than brawling, Tom just looked sleepy. "I'd say that'll do." She held up a little mirror for him.

"Eh! That's grand Alex!"

Hal looked over his shoulder and gave a quick raise of his eyebrow. "Not bad."

"Thanks Alex – you're the best," Tom stood, reaching for the note as Alex started putting the cases back in the pouch. He left the kitchen to make the call.

The day passed slowly. Tom was away for his interview most of the afternoon, which they took as a good sign. After deciding to organize the pantry, Hal had finished with the piano. He quickly checked his work with a Prelude, letting the swell overtake him before gently closing the lid. There. That was better. He turned at Alex's clapping. She had been giving him little tests – leaving suddenly for this that or the other thing. He'd been unaware that she had returned to the room.

"That was nice. What was it?"

He stood and pushed the piano bench in before answering, "Prelude in B Minor. Chopin."

"You mentioned Chopin once... when you were still -"

"Chaired?" He stated simply before adding, "You thought it would then be a good idea to tune into the radio. Which didn't go over well, if I recall correctly."

She snorted. "You didn't consider Philip Glass worthy of being on Classic FM."

"Certainly not,"

"So, you remember?" Alex asked, suddenly wondering. Hal paused, but then gave a quick nod. "What else?"

Hal took a deep breath. "I declared personal execution to whoever at the station was responsible. And you secretly like American jazz."

"Och! Not so secret if you remember. Huh," Alex tilted her head, regarding him. "You may not be quite as split as I thought."

He gave her a funny, quizzical look before disregarding it with a shrug. "I'm going to prepare supper for Tom – care to join?"

Tom returned a fully employed member of the hotel catering staff. He was to start straight away, filling in over the weekend. And he was completely shocked to find that Hal had cooked him food. Afterwards, they enjoyed a mellow night of watching a film, and Alex wondered if it was her imagination or if Hal really did seem more relaxed.

When the film was over and he bid goodnight to answer the call of his evening routines, she kept herself from following. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments before he left the room to head upstairs.

Tom was casually flipping channels, but he kept occasionally checking his mobile. Finally, she swiped the remote from him. "Just call her. She's probably wanting to hear from you too."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes, I do. Now don't forget to wash the makeup off before bed."

Tom gave her a grin and then stood, mobile out. "You don't mind?"

"Naw – I'm fine. Will be nice to have the tele to myself,"

"Thanks Alex," Tom smiled genuinely at her before he headed off, mobile in hand.

Alex checked the sports. Glasgow was ahead. She scanned the news, there was nothing of note. Eventually, she realized she was bouncing from channel to channel as absentmindedly as Tom had been. She turned the television off.

Walking through the house, she made sure all the lights were out and everything was in its place. And then she teleported to his door.

His light was already off, much to her astonishment. Surely she hadn't flipped through channels that long? Or maybe he had opted for bed rather than reading for the evening. Sleeping sitting upright with her on the sofa couldn't have been the most restful. She had planned to knock and then talk with him for a bit, but if he had already gone to sleep...

She hesitated. They had slept without incident the previous night, but his harsh words still echoed. Allowing her into his bed was 'a mistake... not to be made again'.

The last few nights had been nice after a month of constant wakefulness, but she finally had to acknowledge sleep wasn't her only desire. Nor was it merely her blood they shared. Her emotions on the matter were getting tangled. Yes, she could rationalize that it was for his own good. That it would help. But she was kidding herself. Against all reason, she was still attracted to him. And now that he had agreed to try, she wondered if she could be wrong. What if he 'miscalculated' again and she didn't have time to zap him? What if he really could rip her throat out? A morbid record stuck on repeat for her own ghastly death. Would she die again? Once had been quite enough for that particular experience.

She wasn't sure what to do with herself for the long night ahead, but she would give him time. Maybe she would go for a walk. There hadn't been many moments this past month to leave the house.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" He asked, opening his door. Hal was shirtless again and she was taken aback. "There is no point guarding the door." He stepped aside and she stood open-mouthed before taking the invitation to enter. "Really - what were you doing?"

"If you must know, I was trying to decide whether to leave you alone or not."

"And?"

"And you opened the door."

Hal looked at her with an unreadable expression before he latched the handle, containing them in the darkened room. He turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest.

"Well," he had a touch of awkward to his tone. "I'm merely going to sleep."

"I noticed," Alex leaned against his fireplace and wondered if she should just follow through with leaving. Hal was studying her in the dark before he dropped his arms, stepping past her to the far side of the bed. He folded the blankets down before he looked at her again, pausing.

"Do you want to stay?" He asked, emphasizing the choice.

She did. And she didn't. He watched her for a change of expression but she didn't answer. Tilting his head, he closed his eyes with a calculated sigh. And then he deftly unhooked the button and zip of his trousers to step out of them. The shock froze Alex in place. She was certain he would have caught her startled expression, had he been looking. He merely stood in his pants and folded his jeans, setting them neatly on the chair next to him. And then he slid under the covers and into bed. Pulling the blankets up, he turned to face away from her.

He had kept himself to the far side of the narrow mattress and Alex felt a quick flutter of nerves. But even before she fully recognised what she was doing, she was stepping free of her boots. She wriggled out of one, and then the other and came to stand at the edge of the bed. Surely, with that much skin contact she'd be able to stop him if anything went wrong? She unzipped her jacket and let it fall.

Lifting the blankets, she faltered only briefly before lying down next to him. His breathing was deep and even, controlled. Alex hazarded to touch his back, near his ribs. When his breathing didn't change, she slid her hand up and over his side to pull herself closer to him. He tensed with an unstable exhale but didn't shift. Alex was still poised, cautious, until his breath steadied as he slowly relaxed against her.

She was slipping her hand with a careful pull of gravity to grace the ridges of his stomach when he stopped her without a word. Capturing her fingers, he stilled them as he brought his arm up against his waist. Eventually, Alex couldn't help but feel the lure of soft sinking as he fell into sleep. With her hand still clasped in his, Alex gradually let herself relax and she followed him down.