Hello Everyone!

Sorry for the delay, been ill. yuck!

Okay so the extra scene has now been released with the DVD, loved it!

I am going to continue with this story though as I really am enjoying writing it, and hope those of you who are still reading are also.

As this is a short chapter, the next will be up shortly.

I own nothing Being Human, though I wish I did!

Hal had planned everything perfectly; Rotas were all sorted, he'd moved a change of clothes to the hotel a week before and promised Alex that he wouldn't leave Tom's side.

He'd kept Tom away from Alex as much as possible; last thing he needed – what both of them needed was for Alex to spot Tom's blatant guilty tells.

And they were becoming more and more blatant. But then again, Hal mused, so was Tom in general. Now that he had confided in Tom and got him to agree to his little experiment of 'coming down from the monster', he noticed just how tense Tom was all the time. It was like puberty had taken a thunderpunch to his friend as Tom lurched like bewildered lost child from hot anger to deep despair. Hal would try and cut him off when he could, but to be honest he was having a hard enough time keeping his own façade of togetherness intact.

He would find himself forced to keep a serene appearance around Alex, mixed with a little frustration and anger at small things – just so she would think he really was trying to get better on her terms. He'd make all the conversation at the table, take all Alex's focus so she wouldn't look at Tom fidgety body, flexed fists and guilt ridden glances until she was out of the room, then he would place a hand on Tom and whisper 'Just a few more days.'

He was still dragging the boy along by his heels as it was. 'This aint right,' Tom kept saying, pulling Hal to one side down a corridor, into a corner, in the kitchen. 'It's no good hurtin people.'

'Fine,' said Hal the night before they were due to go out. He turned from the sink, looking around to see if Alex was near, no, probably up in the attic again. He then turned back to Tom and looked him squarely in the eye. 'Bring a stake.' He hissed.

'What?' Tom's eyes popped.

'You heard me. You won't hurt people, we'll just have to find something you will.'

'What, like vampires? But how'd we find em? We can't pick em out like we useta.'

'You might not.' Said Hal looking into the living room, he didn't want to have this conversation here. 'But everyone has tells, and I know every trick in the book.'

Tom looked at him, moving his head away to regard him better. 'Why's this the first you mentioned it. Why'ave ya been attacking normal people if you could find em?'

Hal's head shot back, his eyes narrowed dangerously. 'I have not been attacking anyone.' He almost spat. 'Those people were spoiling for a fight and I just made sure I was there rather than someone else. And,' he stepped menacingly towards Tom, his teeth gritted, his mask of calm slipping. 'I haven't gone out looking for vampires because unlike thugs, vampires are dangerous, they're experienced and vicious and their end game is death, not a beating.'

'Then why now? If they're so dangerous.' pressed Tom, he was standing his ground which made Hal's hand twitch.

'Because Tom, it is clear that even though you were ready to break the chef's rib cage for spilling sauce on you yesterday, premeditated violence is still a step too far.' Tom went to protest his innocence. 'I was there Tom, I know what that look means.' Hal swallowed, there was no point going into more details. He closed his eyes, his heart was beating fast again. He counted to three, four, five then looked up again, his voice slow, confident and calm. 'We will look for one vampire, on their own. I don't know if it will be hard or easy, but… hopefully it will work.'

He stepped away and turned back to the sink where he was washing up. The discussion was over. He heard Tom shuffle out then thump up the stairs. Hal waited until he heard Tom's door slam. Oh good more holes in the walls. He continued to circle round a plate with the brush before dropping it into the sink with a splosh. He leaned forward placing both hands on the side of the sink and let out an unsteady breath.

Was it going to make it better? He wasn't sure any more. All he knew was the spaces of peace between nights out were getting shorter. When he grabbed Tom before he lunged for the chef and whispered that it wasn't long to go before the full moon, he had been shaking. Hal had repeated that same phrase in his own head over and over again for the last two weeks 'Not long, a few more days,'. He'd started muttering to himself he was sure, sometimes he woke up in the night in a cold sweat, promising Alex who had lain beside him that it was just another nightmare of the past, not a dream of the future.

He looked up at the wall in front of him and ripped off the marigolds, throwing them carelessly into the bowl of water. He strode into the living room, suddenly desperate for something, anything to do. The organ? Could he play some Mozart or Rachmaninov? He went over then pulled a face and backed off. Better not; didn't want to start Alex off again.

He crossed to the bar and stopped. He looked down. This was where he had stood when he'd first seen his refection after five hundred years. He placed his feet where they had been before, he turned slowly, head bowed just like he had with both hands on the surface, trying to capture that first feeling of pure fearful, dreadful hope. Then he slowly raised his head, then his eyes.

He blinked. His face had lost some its peachy glow, or had he just got used to seeing it? His nose was discolored, but it was the right shape now. He turned his head one way and then the other. Then he just stared.

Who's face was this? Was it Hal the soldier? Hal the Old One, or Tom and Alex's Hal. Or was he another now? Was this the face of new Hal? Hal the human; Hal the thug? Hal the angry, lonely creature who even after all these centuries, still had no place? Had he lived too long and seen too much as a vampire to ever fit into another?

The face of a lost man looked back at him. He knew where he wanted to be – with Alex, upstairs, her in his arms, smiling and laughing, walking along the beach, taking her to Paris (not just the hotel dining room). Smiling as children skipped around them, as their children skipped around them maybe? Sitting around tutting at the horrors of the world that crept no further into their lives then the television screen. No longer being hungry for anything other than soup or chocolate biscuit. Not needing blood, not having it occupy every second of his life. Not missing that taste; that warm, deep, rich, thick nectar that he could remember, that his whole body achingly remembered so so well; sucking in time to the fading heart beat, feeling the rhythm, as its life washed and mingled into his own in a warm almost orgasmic haze.

Hal opened his eyes with a gasp. He was still standing at the bar, he hadn't remembered closing his eyes. He licked his lips, his mouth was wet and he wiped his hand across them to get rid of some of the moisture. He looked at himself in the mirror in horror. Why had he thought of that? Why had he let himself remember? Hal pushed himself away, staggering a little.

'Just one more day,' He said to himself out loud.

As vampires are getting a mentioned into this, I thought I would put a disclaimer at the start of my story explaining. And here it is again for those who are reading on from here.

Author's note take two: In this world, Only Tom, Hal and Alex have had their curses removed. Just like when Hal first tried to kill the devil in 1918, the three participants (Werewolf Leader Lady Catherine Glass, Ghost necromancer Emile Parsons and random vampire flunky #2) were effected (killed), so now, the three participants (This time Hal, Tom and Alex) are effected (made human). Vampires, werewolves and ghosts still exist, although our three heroes had agreed to avoid all that 'supernatural nonsense'