a/n: So I realize that I have Nina vomiting quite a lot in this series. I figure that being pregnant with a werewolf baby would probably do a number on your stomach. Plus, it's proven to be pretty convenient for the storyline. :) Also, I've decided that 'tutted' is my favorite verb to use for George. I'm going to try to use it at least once every scene that he's in.

Title: How to Woo A Ghost

Author: Elizabeth5

Rating: PG-13-ish

Disclaimer: I don't own Being Human, or Mitchell, or Aidan Turner. But if a genie ever grants me three wishes...

How To Woo A Ghost

Chapter Three: Dinner Date

Mitchell had actually followed Shelly's advice and had spent the better part of the night examining his feelings and behaviors from the past few days. Every jealousy, every moment of pettiness, every disappointment. And he'd come to a startling realization.

He was in love with Annie.

He loved her smile. He loved her warmth. He loved her enthusiasm and zest for life. He loved that she hadn't gone through the door without knowing he was okay, that she'd wept at the thought of him facing Herrick alone, that she'd even turned against George when she thought he was abandoning Mitchell. He loved the reminders she put on the toilet to put the seat back down, even though she didn't even have to use it, and he loved it when she blushed, and he loved watching Super Nanny with her. He even loved all those damn mugs of tea. He especially loved all those mugs of tea.

So he was in love with Annie. It should have been the happiest day of his life, and in a way it was, because after so many years of being alone, he honestly hadn't known if his heart was capable of feeling that way anymore. But in another way, it was devastating, because he knew what he was and he knew what she was, and even God didn't have a big enough sense of humor to ever allow a world where he would deserve her. She was too beautiful and good and kind. She belonged out in the bright sunshiny world with a Ken doll like Andrew. Not in the shadows with a monster like him.

A knock at his door startled Mitchell from his brooding. He glanced at his clock and saw it was nearing 8:00 in the morning. He'd been up all night thinking about Annie. Great. There went his beauty sleep.

Sighing, he ran a hand over his face. "Come in."

It was Annie. Mitchell sat up straighter in bed, both relieved and disappointed to see she was no longer in the red dress from the night before. She came over and sat on the edge of the bed, playing absentmindedly with his comforter. It was something she'd done a million times before, but now that he knew he loved her, everything felt strangely charged. Dammit. What had he gotten himself into?

"Where'd you run off to last night?" Annie asked him. "You disappeared before the dessert cart even arrived."

Mitchell scratched the back of his head, searching for a plausible excuse. "Well..."

Annie looked down at the bedspread. "Let me guess-- you and Shelly found better ways to entertain yourselves?"

It might have only been his imagination, but did she sound just a little bit put out by the idea? It was impossible to know, since his view was most decidedly biased now. Still, a vampire could hope. "Actually..." He decided on the truth, or at least a version of it. "We broke up."

Annie's eyes grew wide, filled with horror at her blunder. "Oh, Mitchell, I'm so sorry."

He shrugged, sincere as he told her, "It's no big thing. My heart wasn't in it anyway."

But he must not have sounded too convincing because Annie crawled up beside him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

They remained like that a moment. Mitchell could have stayed like that forever, but sooner or later Annie might notice that he seemed to like holding her a little too much. He cleared his throat. "So aside from hearing my downer for the morning, did you have something you wanted to talk about?"

He felt Annie shift beside him. "No, it's all right."

"Come on," he pressed, "what is it?"

Annie shook her head. "Not right now. It'd be too tactless."

"Annie." Mitchell turned so he was facing her. "Come on. There's nothing you can't talk to me about-- you know that."

Taking in a deep breath, Annie met his gaze. "I wanted to ask you about sex."

Except maybe that. If Mitchell had been drinking anything at that point, he probably would have spit it out all over her. As it was, he merely gaped. "What about it?" he finallhy managed to sputter.

"You know, how does it work?"

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her. "I would have assumed your mum would have gone over that with you."

She slugged his arm. "I mean for a ghost. For me. How would that work?"

His eyebrow arched even higher, if that was possible. "How the hell should I know?"

Annie chewed on her lip, looking less certain of herself. "I don't know. You always seem to know this kind of stuff, so I thought..."

A sudden thought struck Mitchell. He sat up straight in bed, hands clenching into fists. "Has Andrew been pressuring you? I'll kill him."

Annie caught his arm before he could charge out of bed. "Andrew hasn't said anything about it-- not even hinted. I just want to know, for myself."

He felt like he had been sucker punched. "Jeez, Annie, you've only been on three dates with the guy."

She rolled her eyes. "Typical male double standard. How come you can shag any girl you want on the first date, but I'm a slut if I'm even thinking about it after date three?"

"Because!" Mitchell protested.

"Because why?" Annie pressed. "I'll tell you why-- 'cause I'm a woman, that's why--"

"Because you're too good for that," Mitchell informed her quietly.

Annie stared at him a long moment, seeming torn between annoyance and flattery. Finally, she sighed, seeming to have decided on neither. "I'm not saying I'm going to sleep with Andrew, or anyone else for that matter. For all I know, I'll spend the rest of my un-life as a ghost nun. I just wanted to know, hypothetically, how it would work should the situation ever arise."

Mitchell nodded, supposing that was fair. Annie had the right to do whatever she wanted, whether it made him crazy at the thought of it or not. Giving her an apologetic smile, he leaned back against the headboard and waited to see if she'd join him. She hesitated a moment, then leaned against him again. "What is it you wanted to know exactly?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I won't be able to stay in place," Annie murmured, sounding very young then, and vulnerable. "I'm afraid I'll get scared and disappear."

Mitchell couldn't help but get hints of what Owen must have put her through from that statement. Resisting the urge to track down the bastard and bloody him to a pulp, Mitchell instead swallowed and struggled to keep his voice gentle. "Well, I think whoever you're with will have to make sure to be extra kind, and keep reminding you of how much he loves you and how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to be with you. And he will be-- whoever he is. Lucky, I mean."

The words hung in the air a moment. Annie turned to him, eyes shining with tears. "Thank you, Mitchell." She leaned forward, kissing his cheek.

Mitchell's eyes flickered shut at the contact, savoring the moment. By the time Annie pulled back, he was trying his best to give an easy, unaffected smile. "Anytime," he told her.

#

George and Nina were waiting for them when they came downstairs, looking unusually excited for such an early hour of the morning. "We're going to have a dinner party!" George announced in the same tone a normal person might have said "We're going to Disneyland!" or "We just found a pterodactyl in the backyard!"

Mitchell exchanged a glance with Annie. "Congratulations. I'm sure you'll have loads of fun."

George rolled his eyes. "Not we, Nina and me 'we'. We, all of us 'we'."

Annie gave him a quizzical look. "Since when are you so gung ho about dinner parties?"

Face falling, George looked back and forth tween Mitchell and Annie. "Don't you want to have a dinner party?"

It was like they had kicked a puppy. Exchanging another glance with Mitchell, Annie mustered a smile. "Of course we do!"

Nina ran her hand affectionately along George's back. "George was feeling a bit left out with all the double dating going on, but since most restaurants frown on their patrons randomly vomiting under the table, we figured instead of inviting ourselves along the next time, we'd have everyone over here. Andrew and Shelly, the whole gang."

Annie shot a worried glance at Mitchell. "Actually, maybe we shouldn't--"

"Shelly and I broke up," Mitchell informed them, reaching for a banana off the table.

George threw his hands up into the air, as though Mitchell had broken up with him instead of Shelly. "Great. Now we're uneven."

Mitchell rolled his eyes. "Thanks for the sympathy, George."

"Sorry, it's just-- how do you arrange five around a table?"

Annie shot another sympathetic glance at Mitchell. "Maybe we should just wait another time for the dinner party--"

George pouted. "Or just not invite Mitchell."

"George!" Annie and Nina said at the same time.

He tried his best to look innocent. "What? I was only joking."

Mitchell shook his head. "People, please, can we tone down the melodrama? I'll find another date. The numbers will be even."

"You don't have to," Nina spoke up. "George will understand if you don't feel up to it-- won't you, George?"

The expression on George's face suggested otherwise. Mitchell sighed. It would be like ruining a kid's Christmas. Or in this case, Hanukkah. "Nah, I don't mind. Have your dinner party."

George "yipeed!"-- actually yipeed-- and beamed at everyone in the room. "It's going to be great, you'll see. And Nina and I are going to be the life of the party! No old, practically married couple stigma for us!" A sudden thought seemed to strike him. "I should find my orange flower print shirt. Talk about the party spirit!" And he disappeared from the room before anyone could dissuade him from that rather horrific idea.

"I'll go call Andrew," Annie announced, heading up the stairs.

That left Mitchell alone with Nina. He sat across from her, grabbing a few grapes from the fruit bowl at the center of the table and popping them into his mouth. "So how are you and the wee one feeling these days?"

"Fine," Nina returned with a smile. "And how are things with you and Annie?"

Mitchell furrowed his brow, popping in a few more grapes. " 'Me and Annie'?"

Nina blinked at him, nonplussed. "Well, yeah. I assume you and Shelly broke up because you're in love with Annie."

Choking on the grapes, Mitchell raised a hand to his chest, beating on it heavily. "Come again?"

Nina winced. "Am I being tactless? It's hard to tell with all the hormones-- my social cues are all shot to hell. But you are in love with her, yeah?"

He wanted to lie, but there was something about that steady gaze of hers that made it impossible. Heaven help that baby in her tummy-- he wouldn't get away with a thing. "What are you, psychic?"

Looking amused, Nina shook her head. "No, but I do have eyes. And a woman's intuition."

Another thought struck Mitchell, and he paled. "Does George know?"

Nina raised her eyebrow at him. "Do you really think he could have kept that a secret from you? Or anyone else, for that matter?"

"He is crap at secrets," Mitchell agreed.

Smiling affectionately, Nina rubbed her stomach. "I know, isn't he?" Her smile faded, replaced once again by her no-nonsense gaze. "So what are you going to do about it? Annie, I mean."

"Nothing!" Mitchell said quickly. "Absolutely nothing. I mean, it's ridiculous and stupid and-- why, do you think I should say something?"

"That does seem to be your best option," Nina informed him.

"That, or try and make her jealous to see if she likes me," Mitchell returned. He waited a beat as the thought processed, then looked up at Nina. "Actually, that might work."

She rolled her eyes. "Men. Always reverting to the playground when it comes to relationships."

Mitchell shrugged. "Most of us never did learn anything much after the age of five. But I do happen to know, if you pull a girl's hair hard enough, she'll chase after you every time."

Fighting a smile, Nina shook her head. "And they say romance is dead." She rose to her feet. "For the record, I think this is a terrible idea. But if you are going to try and make her jealous, you better find someone who's really going to do the job."

A slow smile stretched across Mitchell's face. "I think I know just the person..."

#

The dinner party was in full swing, and George looked like he was having the time of his life, bustling about the kitchen and tutting at anyone who tried to touch the food. The only one not arrived yet was Mitchell's date, who had sounded utterly stunned when he called her up but had thankfully agreed to come. He was waiting for her by the window, hoping she wouldn't change her mind-- no telling what George would do if the table placings were uneven. Nina was helping George in the kitchen, and Annie and Andrew were having hand sex on the couch. Okay, so they were only holding hands, but they seemed far too enthusiastic about it for Mitchell's liking.

"So who's the mystery girl you've invited?" Annie asked from the couch.

"Yeah," Andrew piped up from beside her, "we're all dying to know-- no pun intended."

Mitchell managed to stop himself from calling Andrew out on making such a stupid joke, though unfortunately, he was not as successful at keeping the sentiment off his face. Annie had to bite back a smile at his reaction, and noting this, Mitchell grinned. "Just someone who's been needing some company."

"Well, she better get here soon!" George called from the kitchen. "These potatoes won't hold forever."

As if on cue, someone knocked at the door. Mitchell jumped into action, feeling suddenly incredibly nervous; Annie really wasn't going to be pleased when she saw who it was. Oh, well. Too late to go back now. "That's her." With the others all moving forward, trying to get a peek at his guest, Mitchell managed to push his way to the front, opening the door to reveal Janey Harris.

Ignoring the rather vulgar expletive that Annie let out behind him, Mitchell smiled broadly at Janey, motioning for her to come inside. "Janey, hi. Can I take your coat?"

She was even oranger than the last time he'd seen her, although with Owen gone now, she probably didn't have much to fill her time aside from going to the tanning bed. Trying not to stare, Mitchell motioned to the group. "Janey, you already know George. This is his fiance, Nina, this is Andrew--" He took in a deep breath, motioning to Annie, "--and this is Fanny, the one I told you about."

"Fanny?" Annie asked through gritted teeth.

Mitchell merely smiled at her. "Yeah, you know who you are, Fanny. Annie's identical twin sister."

Janey stared at Annie, face blanching ever so slightly. "You're a a dead ringer for her. I can't believe Owen never mentioned Annie had an identical twin."

Annie smiled through clenched teeth. "Sometimes I can hardly remember it myself. Mitchell, can I have a word?"

She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him up the stairs before he could respond and spent the next minute and a half barraging him with a vocabulary that would have made a sailor blush. Mitchell stared at her in shock. "You kissed your mother with that mouth?"

"No, but apparently my twin sister does!" Annie slugged his arm. "What were you thinking? Janey Harris? Janey Harris?"

"Annie, calm down." Mitchell took her by her arms. "I didn't mean to upset you." Okay, so that was a bit of a lie. "But I kept thinking of Owen being locked away in the loony bin and poor Janey all by herself."

"Poor Janey?" Annie hissed. "Poor Janey? She stole my fiance, if you'll kindly recall."

"Who turned out to be a psychotic killer," Mitchell reminded her. "I think Janey's been through enough, don't you? Doesn't she deserve a night with some nice, normal-- okay, not normal-- decent people?"

Annie fumed silently, looking as though she was biting back a response. Finally, after taking in a few deep breaths, she calmed herself enough to speak. "So it's just a charity thing. You aren't... thinking of dating her or anything?"

Mitchell shrugged, grimacing internally at what he was about to do. "I don't know. She's kind of cute." He searched Annie's gaze. "Why? Is there a reason I shouldn't date her?"

Nostrils flaring, Annie swallowed. "None that I can think of."

They stared at each other a long moment, breaths falling into sync, their gazes steady and unblinking, the air between them charged and strangely heavy.

"The food is getting cold!" George called out impatiently from below.

Annie pulled away, avoiding Mitchell's gaze as she headed downstairs. Bracing himself, Mitchell followed.

#

"...and then I saved the puppy," Andrew concluded his story.

A collective "aww" went up around the table from all the women. It took all of Mitchell's energy not to shove his fork through his hand.

George, who was sitting at the head of the table, shook his head in wonder. "Who knew that one man could save so many puppies?"

Andrew shrugged, the perfect picture of modesty. "I guess it's just my calling in life. I love puppies so much."

"So do I," Annie returned, getting a dreamy expression on her face, "their cute little noses and their tiny little paws and their big puppy eyes. They're so cute."

Andrew reached out, squeezing her hand. "They aren't the only thing around here that's cute."

Mitchell couldn't help but snort; it was such a bad line. But the glare Annie shot him would have scared the pants off the bogeyman, so he quickly redirected his attention to Janey. "So, Janey. You work at a tanning salon, right? How's that?"

"It's, you know. A tanning salon." Janey helped herself to another roll. "These rolls are fantastic, by the way."

George beamed at the compliment. "Why, thank you. Secret family recipe."

Desperate not to hear any more puppy stories from Andrew, Mitchell pressed, "So what exactly does it entail? Tanning."

Janey blinked at him, confused. "Entail?"

"It means what do you have to do," Annie spoke up, barely repressing an eye roll.

"Oh, right!" Janey buttered her roll liberally as she spoke. "Well, you come to the salon, you say what setting you want, you hop on the bed, and you tan. Pretty simple. Oh, and you have to strip down to your undies, of course." She gave Mitchell an appraising look, winking. "I'd be happy to help with you with that sometime, Mitchell. Tanning, I mean."

If looks could kill, Annie would have obliterated Janey into a million pieces. Mitchell fought a smile. "Thanks. Maybe I'll take you up on that."

Something began crawling up his leg. Mitchell jumped, then realized it was Janey's foot. Giving a forced laugh, he pushed away from the table. "Oops. Dropped my fork."

He dropped under the table before anyone could question him, hoping that would be enough to dissuade Janey from continuing her little game of footsie. Waiting as long as he guessed it would actually take to find a lost fork, Mitchell was about to move back into his seat when his gaze caught on a movement out of the corner of his eyes. Turning, he spotted Andrew's hand closing down over Annie's thigh.

If he had been a cartoon character, that was the point when steam would have started pouring out of Mitchell's ears. As it was he had to force himself not to drive his fork into Andrew's leg. Taking his seat again, Mitchell searched desperately to find something to get Andrew away from Annie. Should he set his shirt on fire? Probably too dramatic. Or he could always go a little old school...

Thinking quickly, Mitchell stood up, grabbing the wine bottle from the center of the table. "Looks like you're running low there, Drew," Mitchell said, reaching for Andrew's glass. "Let me top you up."

"It's Andrew," Annie said tightly.

"Isn't that what I said?" Mitchell replaced the glass, then swung around wide, purposefully knocking over Andrew's glass and spilling it all over... Annie. Oops. Oh, well, that would work.

"Mitchell!" Annie shot to her feet, eyes blazing. "Watch what you're doing!"

Janey made a face. "Relax, Fanny, it was just an accident."

Annie's face turned a disturbing shade of red as she bit back her response. "Ugh!" was all she finally said, storming out of the room.

Andrew started to his feet after her, but Mitchell held up a hand. "Relax, Drew, I'll take care of it."

"Don't be too long!" George called after him. "You'll miss dessert!"

Mitchell followed Annie to the upstairs bathroom and knocked tentatively. Her voice snapped at him through the walls. "If that's Mitchell, and I know it's Mitchell, then go away. I don't want to talk to you."

"Come on, Annie." Mitchell tried his best to sound contrite. "I'm sorry. Really. Let me help you."

"Go away!"

Ignoring her, Mitchell pushed open the door to find Annie scrubbing manically at her clothes. She glared at him. "You ruined my outfit-- my only outfit. What if this never comes out? I can't exactly throw it in the wash."

Oops. He hadn't considered that. Feeling sincerely apologetic now, Mitchell stepped closer. "What can I do?"

"I'll tell you what you can do," Annie snapped back. "You can stop being such an arse. Ever since I started dating Andrew, you've been weird and moody and-- you've been acting like George!"

Ouch. Now that hurt.

Still riled up and apparently choosing to take it out on her clothes, Annie tore off her gray wrap in one motion, leaving her arms and shoulders exposed in only her white tank top. "Will this bloody stain never come out?"

Mitchell couldn't help but stare. Struggling to control his breathing, he swallowed and managed, "I don't like Andrew. I don't trust him."

"Then maybe you shouldn't have told me to date him!" Annie seethed.

"Maybe I shouldn't have!" Mitchell snapped back.

Annie's gaze shot up to his. The air crackled between them. "Why do you care?" she asked with a toss of her head, trying for nonchalance and not quite managing it. "You have Janey now."

"For cripe's sake," Mitchell rolled his eyes, "I don't give a shit about Janey."

Annie blinked, looking uncertain now. "You don't?"

Mitchell shook his head, swallowing, and was surprised to find that his hands were trembling. "I'm in love with someone else."

"Who?" Annie whispered, not breaking his gaze.

Here it was, the moment of truth. Annie had told him once he never seemed like he was afraid of anything; he wondered if she'd still say that now. Well, it was now or never. Sink or swim. Sucking in a deep breath, he leaned forward and kissed her.

Nothing happened.

He was there, she was there, but she wasn't reacting at all; she was stiff as a board. Shit. He'd totally misjudged the whole situation, everything, Back-peddling quickly, he started to pull away.

And then Annie laced her fingers through his hair and half-moaned his name, dragging him closer, and they were off.

It was more intense than anything he'd felt in either of his lifetimes. He'd been in love before, but not like this, not where she was literally one of the two people he cared about in the entire world, not when he loved her enough to only want good things for her, loved her enough to want to be better for her and better for himself so he could deserve her. Feeling her hands in his hair, dragging down along his back, made him feel alive in a way that he hadn't for almost a century. The kiss became more urgent, and they stumbled backward, Mitchell's back slamming up against the wall, ice-cold hands feeling their way under his shirt and exploring his expanses of skin hungrily. He reciprocated in kind, body humming in anticipation as his fingers made their first foray under her tank top and she arched against him, gasping out his name--

The door burst open and Nina rushed inside, managing a "Sorry!" before half-collapsing over the toilet bowl and retching violently.

Mitchell felt an almost physical pang as Annie pulled away from him. He tried to reach for her, but she had already disappeared.

"Shit," he muttered, banging his head against the door as Nina continued to vomit in the background.

TBC...

Coming up: Edward Cullen, talks of threesomes, and more Janey.

Review and I'll send you happy Mitchell thoughts!