I have to admit that this is not my favourite chapter but I can't keep rewriting it. I think I need distance from this chapter. And anyway, I can't wait to what comes next. I promise the action will pick up in the following chapters, so bear with me if you're still reading.

A common mistake often made by Annie and George was forgetting how much life Mitchell had on them. It was easy to go by his looks and feel they were all twenty-somethings in a similar point in their lives, albeit odd ones. But in reality their vampire friend had already lapped them a few times in the lifetime race.

George had made the mistake when he assumed he had been Mitchell's first house mate. He wasn't. He wasn't even the first one with a beating heart.

Life for Annie was an ever-blooming flower and emotions spilled heavy and abundant.

Truth was that you could not compete with decades of silence, of burying thoughts and feelings deep down.

Perhaps it had started before the blood kiss, after all he came from an era where men where not encouraged to express their feelings, unless unbridled by the ale.

Mitchell was talkative when he was giddy certainly; they remembered him telling them all about their neighbours at the beginning of the human experiment, but the more his past came back to haunt him, he'd withdraw within himself.

He could not share his burdens, and Annie could not ask the question. She too was haunted by her past. Old Annie would nag her loved ones to open themselves up, but that had always gone wrong.

She knew it.

Every story had had a bad ending, the last one the worst of all. She yearned for him to let her in, and yet, she was afraid to force it out.

She came into the house around four, still pondering upon the last member of her kind she had met. They hadn't met a lot of werewolves, Tully had been a great disappointment, but at least George and Nina had each other. Vampires just couldn't keep away like bad pennies.

Ghosts on the other hand, were always more elusive and seriously lacking on information.

"Where were you?"

Why did his words sounded like a little boy's subtly recriminating his mother for leaving him alone? He hadn't intended it, he cursed silently at the lacking control on his emotions. He tried to cover it by playing it cool, leaning on the wall and relaxing his face. Unfortunately, his blank face had the tendency of looking too severe, as if deeply worried or with slight contempt.

His voice had broken her train of thought and she looked up to see him leaning sideways at the entrance of the kitchen.

"Uh? Ah… I went shopping… I felt like buying oranges." She stated guilelessly.

"You lost them?" Annie looked confused. "The oranges… You have no oranges."

"Oh… Long boring story…"

The odd encounter paled in comparison to the worry hanging silently in between them.

"Right."

This business of not showing his emotions was rapidly crashing down. Even Mitchell couldn't deny the jabbing power of the word.

"Oh you do not give me that attitude you… you… Irish vampire!" Annie said defiantly.

"That was really creative." The sarcasm was oozing out effortlessly.

Annie could taste rage in the back of her mouth. What was this development of late? Her emotions seemed to have corporeal manifestations and they rushed out at the drop of a hat. She wasn't sure what she was about to do, but it felt like the feelings were propelling her into action. Perhaps she would have gone poltergeist in hysterics, or like a period-drama lady she would have walked up to the rogue and slapped his face.

Or maybe she would have just disappeared if it hadn't been for George coming down the stairs to interrupt their Old West stare-off.

"Oh! You're both here…" He said tightening the belt of his burgundy dressing gown. "That is remarkable. Mitchell, to what do we owe the honour of your visit?"

Annie snorted.

"I still live here!" Mitchell responded shifting his ire to his best friend.

"Could have fooled me." Annie's snide remark stung.

"Finally you speak your mind." Mitchell said.

"Are you having a row?" George asked his friends, the slight higher tone of his words indicating his amusement.

"No!" Mitchell yelled while Annie disagreed. "Yes!"

They looked at each other making sense of what the other had said.

"So, if we're not, then I guess we're just using sarcasm as pleasantries." Annie commented.

"I was just asking where you were." Mitchell explained.

"Because I have to be home at your beck and call… right."

"You were out Annie?" George interrupted.

"Yes I was George! I went to the shops to get oranges."

"So where are they? The oranges?"

"It's a long story!" Annie barked at George.

"Alright then. I'll let you two to your fighting… Don't want to get hit in the crossfire." He said going up the stairs to his room.

"I need to go see Ivan." Mitchell said brushing by Annie to get to the door and grabbing his jacket on the way out.

"Alright then." Annie said looking around now that she had been left alone. "This is more like it."

And she went to the sofa to once again fill the remainder of her day watching television.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Since death Sykes' senses had enhanced. There hadn't been anyone to teach him the necessary ghost survival skills that he was now proud to possess. But then again, you don't get to be a Royal Air Force pilot during World War Two by being oblivious to your surroundings.

Everyday he would walk the streets of Bristol with determination. He observed and kept mental notes of the sites and the people, of daily habits and sporadic contingencies. For him war was not over, no matter what that hippie Beatle had said.

War was his constant, with its daily perils and its haunting regrets.

He was walking the trails of a public park, listening to the Bristol wind hiss in between the trees, the distant echo of kids playing nearby and the sound of his navy trench coat brushing the tall grass from time to time.

Until he noticed the added muffled sound of knitted boots following him.

"Are you seriously stalking me?" He asked looking back to the persistent ghost he had met a few days before.

"No!" She was quick to reply. "Maybe…Maybe you are the one following me." Annie theorised.

"I'm certainly talented. Following someone while walking ahead of them." Sykes commented dismissively.

"Fine… I was following you… But I didn't come here looking for you… I just happened to come to the park today and I noticed you… So I started following… You can't tell me that is not fate."

"Fate doesn't exist. Everything is the result of our decisions, albeit some of them are not fully conscious… Or thoroughly thought."

Annie frowned at the enigmatic comment.

"Very well… It may have been a coincidence but I'm not fond of being followed."

The comment saddened Annie and it was evident who thought Sykes was sending her away.

"Oh come on. Don't cry. I just meant if you're going to be going the same way as me I'd appreciate if you walked along. I haven't had a proper conversation in a long time."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The little ghost may not have known almost anything about survival skills, but he had to give it to her: She did have some seriously superb persuasion ones. He was pondering that while he seated in the sofa of a quirky little pink house while Annie made him tea.

It didn't matter that neither of them could drink it. She had made a rather strong point of it being her duty as host.

And it was his duty as her guest to shut up and act grateful.

Perhaps it was that Annie reminded him of his younger sister, the thought made him smile thinking about the many times he was forced to sit with her teddy bear and make small talk while she poured the imaginary tea.

That made more sense. They were playing tea party. 'In a way, being a ghost is a never-ending pretend game' he thought.

He had managed not to think of his little sister in sixty odd years and yet this helpless little ghost had made him. It was hard not to feel all the hard angles of his personality softening.

"Annie!"

A distinct Irish voice called from the door and Sykes stood up instinctively.

"Annie?" The dark haired vampire came into the parlour and mirrored the defensive stance of the uniformed ghost.

They both knew what the other one was; they were both army men with long after death lives to prove their survival was not casual occurrence.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my home?"

"Mitchell!" Annie called coming from the kitchen with a tray. "This is Sykes. He's a ghost like me." With an ear-to-ear grin she introduced her new friend while she handed them both cups with steaming tea. "This is Mitchell, he's one of the friends I was telling you about. George shouldn't be too long. We share the house."

Mitchell witnessed in disbelief the easiness with which Annie rambled on, as if they were not in a state of siege.

"May I ask you… Sykes… What are you doing in my property?"

"At the moment, pretending to drink tea. I'm afraid I can't tell you why, but you must know Annie better than I do, and therefore, it should make more sense to you than it does to me."

Was the stranger cheeking him? Mitchell wondered. He was acting all smug in his fancy Royal Air Force garb and it was sitting very badly with him. He adopted then his smile of contempt

"You're really witty, aren't you?"

"Mitchell! Kitchen! Now!" Annie yelled at his rudeness.

Mitchell marched behind Annie towards the kitchen well aware that she was about to reprimand him.

"Why are you acting like that?" She asked half whispering and peeking back through the beaded curtain to make sure their guest could not hear them.

"Like what?"

"He is my guest and you're acting like he's a criminal!" She said pointing towards the living room.

"And how do I know he's not?"

Mitchell's tone of voice was rapidly getting higher.

"Because I know him!"

"For how long? You've never mentioned him before so it can be too long… Unless you have known him for long and you have been keeping that information from me."

"What are you implying?"

"Nothing. Why? Are you feeling guilty about something?"

"You barely even acknowledge me these days and you act all surprised that I have a life independent from you?"

Mitchell came closer to Annie consciously trying to intimidate her by his closeness.

"I'm not fond to coming to my house and finding some random stranger-" He wasn't done talking when Annie interrupted him.

"What? Sitting on you sofa? Drinking your tea? Chatting up your woman?"

She knew he was trying to intimidate her and she was going to prove to him that she was no longer the quiet wallflower she had been in life.

"You're putting words in my mouth."

"Sykes is not a stranger. He's my friend and I invited him over to meet you and George. And to be honest you are embarrassing me."

"The only thing I'm saying is that you don't know him. You have no idea what his agenda is."

"Oh, and you do?"

"After everything that has happened, are you seriously trusting someone who just happened to find you?"

"I would have been taken, if he hadn't helped me."

That got his attention.

"When did this happen?" His hand was holding the intricate knitting of her cardigan sleeve.

"A few days ago. The long story with the oranges?"

Annie was now looking away and trying to diminish the importance of the event.

"And you didn't tell me?"

Was it shock and maybe disappointment in his voice? Annie wondered, but she quickly tried to stop reading too much into things.

"What's new to tell? Someone tries to pull me back every other week."

"But I'm your… We're together." Mitchell was now moving his arms in frustration.

"You have a problem with me not sharing every single thing that happens to me and all my thoughts and worries. Why is that ringing a bell? It couldn't possibly be because you do that yourself!"

Now that was that thought she was holding on to.

"It's hardly the same thing."

"Hmmm let me see… Having some mafia-like vampire sending you a direct threat is definitely nothing like having the afterlife sending you messages on the telly about your imminent appointment with the great beyond."

"I just don't want anything to happen to you." He said crossing his arms over his chest.

"And that is why I need Sykes to help me. And he probably would have, if you hadn't scared him. For him I'm just the nagging ghost that dragged him home only to have her vampire… something…yell at him. But listen to me, if he still wants to, for some unknown reason, he is going to help me whether you like it or not."

"Oh, so it's like that now? You really can't see any other reason why I would be more than sceptic to have my… my… you… going off with someone we don't know!"

"I know him."

"For what? Five minutes?"

Their argument was loud enough for Sykes to be able to follow. He would have tuned that out by now but the fact that it was between a ghost and a vampire had him intrigued.

"For good or bad, actually quite bad, you and George had others like you for guidance. I really haven't had anyone to tell me about ghosts."

"There was Gilbert."

"Who taught me about having Gilbert fun, anarchy and eighties music. And yes, I did learn a bit from him, but he was gone much too soon."

"I've told you things about ghosts." The vampire had explained.

"But you're not one, and you can't really understand what it is like."

"I know what is like to be dead."

"It's not the same and you know it. I need this. And you are going to have to learn to be fine with this, because I'm not asking for your permission."

"Fine! But be careful. And he should know George and I care for you, that we're family, and… that you're not unattached."

'Real smooth, you idiot." Mitchell thought.

"So this is what we're talking about here? That I didn't tell him that I'm… what? Spoken for?"

Mitchell didn't respond and Annie didn't press him to. Hey were just looking intensely at each other sure about only one thing: that neither of them wanted to be the first one to speak.

"Hi guys! I'm home and I'm in the mood to cook. So prepare your palates!"

George yelled as he came through the door, too concerned about the shopping bags he was carrying and not noticing anything amiss while he set the numerous bags down to close the door properly.

As he fumbled with the things he carried and tried to take off his jacket he kept talking.

"Tonight is going to be great and my beautiful and sexy lady friend is going to come over…" By now he was looking for his friends, expecting to see Annie watching television. "Annie? Oh… Hello… Strange person sitting on my sofa… I'm George." He introduced himself awkwardly to the stranger.

"Hi George. I'm Sykes. Annie brought me. I believe your friends are in the kitchen fighting."

"Are they?" George asked turning around in confusion to see the silhouettes of his friends in the kitchen.

"Apparently Mitchell is very guarded and not too keen to having people he doesn't know over, or terribly jealous of Annie spending time with another person. And Annie is not too happy with the way he's been behaving. That's what I've got so far. But don't quote me, I may be mistaken."

"Could you… give me a minute? I should go and find them." George said leaving him on his own once more.

He came into the kitchen to find them both stoic and looking quite severe. He cleared his throat loudly trying to get their attention.

"Ah… Guys I hope you realise he can hear you all the way there… Whoever that is."

"That is my friend Sykes, who I can invite to my own home whenever I damn please!" Annie yelled to George.

"May I ask what the problem is?"

"Not the best time George." Mitchell dismissed him.

"No. I think it would be great to get his opinion. So George, do you think I'm insane for wanting someone of my own people to teach me more about being a ghost?"

"Your own people? You make it sound like we're talking about clansmen."

"He's a ghost like me! And since when do I have anything to say about you two bringing werewolves and vampires home?"

"So George… Do you think it's wise to have some random stranger take Annie away from us to allegedly train her?" Mitchell then asked George.

"Well… I totally see where you're coming from Mitchell… But…"

"Oh! Come on!"

"As I was saying… You want Annie's safety. I do as well… Why refuse the best bet we have for her to reach her full potential?"

Mitchell didn't have to reply since the former pilot came to join them in the kitchen.

"Sorry to interrupt you, but now it may be the best time for me to mention that I do not intend to train Annie." He said standing straight with his hands on his back.

"Finally… common sense. Nice to meet you mate…" Mitchell said now pleased at the unexpected outcome.

"Wait!" Annie yelled in frustration.

"Excuse me… May I ask why couldn't you help Annie?" George intervened.

"Because it's not some adult education course. There is only one passing grade and that is excellent. If you make one mistake you're gone. I cannot be responsible for that."

"But if you don't help me I'm gone anyways." Annie's tone had lost the spark. She felt exhausted always swimming upstream. She wasn't going to scream or argue anymore. "Please."

Sykes looked at her in silence.

Sixty plus years of keeping her away from his memories, but yet again she had conjured her in his mind. He couldn't say no to Elizabeth's sad eyes, and apparently he couldn't say no to Annie's either.

"Okay…" He finally conceded.

Mitchell felt guilty at his apprehension when he noticed Annie's vulnerability. He just nodded admitting defeat and he also noticed George's slight smile and he's covert attempt to brush off a tear while he pretended to clean his glasses.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Gentlemen… Ma'am…" Sykes said as he slightly bowed his head before disappearing.

"Okay. He's trustable. I'll give him that… But what's with the whole Royal Air Force thing going on? I was in a war too you know? You don't see me saluting anyone…"

"Are you feeling less than confident on yourself Mitchell? Or are you jealous? This is great! I didn't think I'd live long enough for it!" George asked smiling pleased.

"Keep it up and you won't."

"Oh-oh, you are not going to twist this on to George because there's a certain vampire in this household who should be sleeping with one eye open because he may get staked." Annie said looking intently at Mitchell before disappearing.

"I guess you're sleeping alone tonight mate."

"Shut up George!"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sykes and Annie were sitting on the grass together looking at people's auras. Annie had master the skill quite easily.

"That whole domestic thing…" Sykes started.

"Yes?"

"Why?"

"What do you mean? People have to have a home." Annie replied confused by her friend's consternation at her living arrangements.

"Not ghosts."

"Aren't we supposed to haunt houses and stuff?"

"In films! And I guess there are some who have very obsessive unfinished business… I've known a few… But they are not quite there in their minds, you know? It's like they're stuck in an endless loop… Not like you and me… I thought you'd know about this… How long have you been dead?"

"Closing on two years." Annie replied looking away into the horizon feeling quite the late bloomer in the afterlife department.

"Dear God! How could you not know this?"

"My introductory welcome basket never arrived?"

"But you surely have known other ghosts."

Annie smiled remembering Gilbert. He surely taught her a lot, in an indirect and wonderful way, but she was still so far from where she should be.

"Not really. I met one but he moved on soon after."

"The vampire and the werewolf… They didn't tell you?"

"They've told me what they knew. It's not like they're keeping anything from me."

"Which reminds me of my first comment. Why would you keep those living arrangements?" Sykes reiterated.

How could she answer that question? For so long she believed she was tied to every single brick and nail of the house, from the crack tile to the tea urn. But now she knew that it was so much more than that.

"Well… It's my home."

"You died there."

"Yes… But it's more, it's my home and they are my family."

"It's odd." The pilot commented looking away.

"Why?"

"Well, the nature of the ghost is to roam. We are the ultimately freest being. You can roam the earth; you need no sleep, no sustenance, no money. Nothing ties you down. Surely at first you were tied to the place were you died, but once you've grown and become stronger and more solid you are free to go where you may."

"How does that work? Being tied to one place and then not?"

"Well, I guess you need an anchor. At first it is the place where you died and then it evolves. They can be a token, a desire, a memory… a fear…"

"Or a love…" Annie suggested.

"I guess so."

Both ghosts remained silent for a few minutes or a few hours. Time was such a funny thing when you're dead.

"Can I read supernatural auras?" Annie asked finally.

"Yes."

"What if I read yours?"

"Don't!" He said holding on to her sleeve and frightening her a little in the process.

"Sorry… I won't, if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Listen to me Annie: You have to be careful with it. People are entitled to their personal thoughts, you wouldn't want anyone to go digging through your thoughts right?"

"Oh god, that would be awful."

"The same applies to feelings and emotions."

"Are you just about to quote Spiderman and tell me 'with great power comes great responsibility'?"

"What is Spiderman?" Sykes asked seriously.

"Never mind…. I mean, you didn't just teach me this just to tell not to do it."

"Now… We're different, we're ghosts. We're not like vampires and werewolves. We have to make do with what we can. But it's not always nice to be able to sense someone's complete array of emotions."

"Okay… So what else are you going to teach me?"

"That is all for today. We'll cover more tomorrow." Sykes said getting up and saluting Annie before disappearing.

XXXXXX

Annie had been telling George about her newfound skills while they were sitting at the kitchen table. George had asked her to read his aura and they were both giddy like kids learning new magic tricks.

Annie was the first one to feel the cold air getting twisted inside her chest, while George was the first to notice the acrid smell of rusting blood. They looked at each other in panic and Annie didn't even need to see the scarlet tint spreading like wildfire in her dear friend's aura; the bid pools of his eyes were enough.

They were looking with trepidation toward the entrance before the door opened.

He came abruptly through the beaded curtain: all dark eyes and covered with blood.

"Mitchell! What happened? Whose blood is that?" George yelled walking towards him.

Annie looked down afraid to look at his aura. She wanted to make sure her power was dormant before she looked at Mitchell, too afraid of what she'd be able to read in him.

"Relax… It's my blood." Mitchell said shaking his head slowly trying to clear his eyes.

"How is that supposed to make me relax?" George asked as Annie got to her feet with her hand on her chest, instinctively trying to calm her ghost heart galloping away.

"I saw both your faces… and me being me… Believe me, coming home covered in my own blood is about the best possible scenario." He said taking the blood-covered leather jacket off.

"What happened?" Annie asked coming closer and wiping his violet and crimson cheek.

"There was a coup."

"A vampire coup?" George inquired.

"No, George. Britain is abolishing the monarchy. Of course a vampire coup! What kind of idiotic question is that?"

George just grimaced.

"I'm sorry. Today was quite a shitty day."

Annie spoke then.

"Let's get you to the bathroom and get you sorted out."

"It doesn't matter. The bruises won't last long."

"Well I doubt you want to go to bed covered in dirt and blood."

"Annie's right." George agreed.

"Fine…"

They took him to the bathroom and settled him on the edge of the bathtub. Mitchell felt silly with both of them fussing over his bruises and cuts but he stayed still feeling it was more important to them than to him.

"Should I call Nina to come and take a look at you?" George asked after bringing Annie alcohol, swabs and any other things from their first-aid kit that looked remotely useful in that situation.

"I think your girlfriend would be less than thrilled to be woken up on her night off to tend to the wounds of this sorry-arsed vampire… And not to mention I don't happen to be her favourite person in the world blood-sucking things aside."

"Oh… that's… not… true… entirely…" George replied uncomfortably.

Mitchell felt Annie's hands cleaning his face wounds and he noticed they were shaking. He grabbed hold of them and tried to lighten the situation.

"Don't worry about Annie. Everything will be healed by the morning and I'll be my handsome old self."

"Don't joke about it." She said freeing herself and throwing the stained gauze in the rubbish bin.

"They really did a number on you." George commented looking intently at Mitchell.

"They took over the funeral parlour."

"They?"

"Some of the newer vampires… Apparently someone is being preaching that change is needed. And change seems to start with getting rid of Ivan, myself and a few others."

"Mitchell…" Annie sighed and he took hold of her hand once more.

"I'll go get you a clean shirt." George said sensing they needed privacy.

"I'm okay. You don't have to worry." He said looking up from his sitting position.

"Of course I worry. I care about you." Annie said standing in between his legs.

"I'm okay, I promise… and besides, the only really bad thing that could have happened would have involved a stake and they didn't bring any stakes."

"And what, if they had? Would I have eventually found your ashes along with your boots?" Annie asked with her voice showing clearly how shaken she was.

"I can take care of myself and I won't be leaving you anytime soon, alright?"

He pulled the hem of her camisole and tied his arms around her waist. His head was buried against her abdomen and his fingers were getting tangled with the fabric of her clothes.

George came back to see that image from outside the bathroom. Annie was standing up with Mitchell sitting on the edge of the bathtub holding her tight with his face flush against her. George felt like he was intruding in a very intimate moment. It was almost voyeuristic to see them like that. George could sense something deeper, a bond between his friends that he'd never be a part of. He wasn't truly jealous or envious; it was just a lonely feeling, right then he remembered that well after his death they'd still roam the earth…

Only if Mitchell didn't get himself staked before that.