This story is set somewhere in series one, after Annie finds out that Owen killed her but before all the crazy Herrick business…

Annie stood over the kitchen sink with the cup of tea dangling limply from her finger; the remainder of the cold tea was slowly dripping to the floor, creating a small puddle next to her feet as she stared out of the window at nothing in particular.

Mitchell stepped into the kitchen on tired legs. He stopped and looked at the small pool of tea before gently prying the mug from Annie's grasp. She looked down at his hand as he did so but she said nothing, simply stared solemnly.

"You okay?" Mitchell placed the mug into the sink carefully and began to fill the kettle from the tap. Annie nodded slowly and moved slightly, giving Mitchell more room at the sink. He secured the kettle on its stand and flicked the switch. It was as though he'd flicked Annie on as well as the kettle; her head twitched and she looked at the kettle with pure hatred. She walked over to it cautiously and rested her hand on the lid as it began to boil.

Mitchell watched, fascinated, and jumped back when Annie's fingers curled around the handle of the kettle and she flung it across the kitchen. It hit the table, spilling boiling water across the plastic table cloth. Mitchell watched as the steaming liquid leaked onto the floor like sulphuric acid.

Annie's mouth twitched into a subdued smile and then faded. She looked forlornly at the cold puddle of tea and then at the hot puddle of water across the room and she began to sob.

Mitchell touched Annie's arm lightly and spoke softly, "Hey, its okay. You're gonna be alright now".

Annie looked at him through shimmering eyes and her voice cracked as she replied, "I loved him you know", she shook her head and smiled, "What an idiot. I should've known it was too good to be true. He was too handsome-" Mitchell's face crumpled slightly, "-too clever, too…" she trailed off.

"Too angry?" Mitchell lifted Annie's chin with his thumb, "Annie, he's a tosser. And yeah, he killed you, but if he hadn't I wouldn't have ever met you", he smiled and his face lit up, "But he's gone now, okay? You're safe".

She smiled and nodded and then, to Mitchell's surprise, she hugged him. He hadn't been hugged in years; yeah, he'd had sex plenty of times but he hadn't had warm, gentle human contact for a long while. He held her closely and buried his head in her hair. It smelt of mint and felt like touching a television screen but it felt good.

They held one another for a long time, just standing there in the tiny kitchen with their arms around each other. The world seemed to drop away and all that remained were them. Finally Annie pulled away, she scratched her head awkwardly and wiped the tears from her face. Mitchell reluctantly let go of her and cleared his throat nervously,

"Better?"

Annie nodded and picked up a dishcloth from underneath the sink. She walked over to the still-steaming puddle of boiling water next to the table and began swilling it around with the dishcloth. Mitchell winced as her wrist leant in the hot liquid but he soon relaxed when he realised it couldn't hurt her.

Annie stood up and began mopping at the water on the table; she pulled up the red and white plastic table cloth, which had begun to melt onto the table, and grimaced, "Oh dear. George is going to kill me".

Mitchell smirked and walked over to inspect the damage. The red of the plastic was welded to the pine table and, as Annie removed the cloth, strings of melted plastic dragged across the table. Mitchell pulled the corners of his mouth down, like he knew he was going to get wrong when Dad got home and he prodded at the sticky plastic with his finger.

"OW! Jesus!" The vampire stuck his finger in his mouth and started sucking furiously.

Annie giggled, "Let me see", she pulled on his arm but he shook his head like a naughty child. Annie plonked her hands on her hips and held out her hand, palm up, "Let me see".

Mitchell reluctantly pulled his burnt finger from his mouth and placed his hand in Annie's. She closed her fingers around it and it felt wonderful; her fingers were like cool strips of ice and they caressed his injured finger soothingly. He smiled and their eyes met for a brief moment before she let go of his hand.

"Better?"

Mitchell grinned, "Much".

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