Bristol, Friday
"You watch the news much?"
He and Daisy were back in the same old diner, functioning mostly as a coffeeshop this early in the day. She was shaking sugar into her coffee from a packet like she was a singular live wire, her eyes flicking up from the cup to him and back again.
"All over the world, you have these pockets of vampires," she said, slipping the packet into her hand and leaning forward, almost into Mitchell's space. "Some hiding, some with... arrangements like you have here. But things are starting to shift. See, there's been a lot of 'accidents' lately. Gas leaks, collisions, buildings collapsing. They're fighting back."
Paranoia. Yeah, that was just what they needed. Mitchell gave her a blank look. "They?"
"Humans," Daisy said, exchanging the empty sugar packet for a lighter.
He snorted. "That's what Herrick was always talking about," he said, "Survival of the fittest. Look, it comes down to this, you know? There's always going to be someone with a bigger stick." Like those cops, leading that vampire out the door for an execution. Bigger stick: something the kids with them hadn't understood.
"So what do we do?" she asked.
Mitchell sighed, and pushed up, taking his cup with him. "We have to wait." They'd already waited a couple of days, but they had to sit through the worst of the storm before they could--
"I don't want to fucking wait!" Daisy yelled. Every patron in the diner looked up and at them; Mitchell could feel their eyes boring into his back. Fucking brilliant.
He sat back down.
"My husband died in there," Daisy hissed. "Ivan, your friend. Don't you get it? We're being hunted, we have to retaliate--"
"And how are we going to do that?" Mitchell snapped. "Hm?"
Daisy leaned on back, the lighter still sliding between her fingers. She seemed to turn inward for just a second or three. "I'm going to track down everyone I knew," she said, staring across the room, though her eyes didn't seem to be seeing much. "I'm going to torture them. I'm going to find out who did this, I'm going to kill them."
The smile she gave Mitchell then was chilling.
She stood up. He grabbed her by the arm.
"Daisy, Daisy," he said, "It was the police. I know it was. It's payback for me killing the Chief Constable, that's what it is. There's no need to look for anyone else."
"I want to hear it from them," she said, staring into his face. Meeting his eyes. She looked wild, crazed, and-- and she had a point.
Mitchell searched her face, then said, "Okay. Okay, I know who we should go and talk to. But let me talk to Eric, first. He's a part of this too, now."
Daisy pulled further away from him. "I still don't think it's the police," she said, "It was quick and brutal, but it was amateurish. Christ, I was across the road when it happened, and I didn't see any bloody police."
Mitchell ran a hand through his hair. "Guess we'll find out," he said. "Just... let me talk to Eric, and give it another day or so to let everything cool down a bit."
---
Mitchell
Mitchell made it home a half-hour after his conversation with Daisy. He needed to get a change of clothes, get some things, go find Eric and talk this over. The guy was a fucking thousand years old, he'd have a couple of ideas about how to handle this kind of thing.
He tugged off his jacket and threw it at his bed, and didn't notice George until the man was already halfway into the room.
George
"Nina's back."
Mitchell
"...Get outta here," Mitchell said. Hey, was that actually good news on the horizon? "How is she?"
George
George sighed. "Weird," he said. "She's met these people and they reckon they can cure her."
Mitchell
Cure her? Seriously?
"How's that?" Mitchell asked, grabbing a shirt off the pile by his bed.
George
"One's a priest."
Mitchell
"You're fucking joking."
Annie
Annie popped into existence on Mitchell's bed, smiling brightly. "Kept that quiet," she said, her fingers curling primly around a cup of tea. "I made a toast and everything."
Mitchell
"So what, it's all like tamborines and shit?" Mitchell asked, casting the new shirt onto the bed and tugging off his own undershirt.
George
"Oh, no," George said, walking further into the room. "They've got a scientist."
Mitchell
"Oh, well," Mitchell said, tugging the new shirt over his head. "As long as they've got a scientist."
George
"Oh, gross." George pulled a face as he sat down on Mitchell's bed, next to Annie. "Yeah, his name's Jaggat, apparently. He's probably from the Pond Clinic. Oh, stick around--" He took the tea from Annie. "The vicar's coming over at two."
Annie
Annie perked up almost immediately. "What, he's coming here?" she said. "You're gonna meet him?"
George
"Yeah," George said, nodding. "They're exploiting her, exploiting her shock. No, I'm going to give them a piece of my mind."
Annie
"Oooh," Annie said, grinning and leaning her chin on her hand. "Well, I'm going to lurk in the kitchen, because I am not missing this."
Mitchell
Mitchell grabbed for his coat. "Sorry, guys, but I need to be somewhere," he said. And pretty quickly. Last thing he needed was for Daisy to lose all interest in doing this peacefully, or for something else to explode, or something.
Annie
Annie blinked. "What, aren't you worried?" she called after Mitchell, as he went for the door. "These people know he's a werewolf."
Mitchell
Oh, he so didn't have time for this. "Just because someone knows who you are doesn't mean they're a threat, Annie," he snapped, half-turning back towards her. "It'll be fine. I mean, they sound pretty harmless, don't they? Scientist and that?"
He tugged on his jacket and got out, probably missing some smart alecky comment about famous last words, but whatever. He needed to go talk to Eric--
...Oh, right. He stopped halfway into the hall, and looked at George. "...Are you gonna be okay?"
Probably should've asked that earlier...
George
George sort of... flopped. "Mm, I guess." He glanced up. "You? Any word from Lucy?"
Mitchell
"No, her flat's locked up." That had been the second happy discovery of the past week. Yep. No doubt Kate was curious why he'd been staying away from the island, but... well. "Remember when you told me I'd be an idiot if I told her what I was?"
Thanks for the grand advice on the opposite end, Kate. Really.
George
George smiled for point five seconds.
"Sorry, Mitchell," he said.
[[ nfb, nfi and ooc-okay. Taken from Being Human 2x07. It's taken a year, but we're nearly at the end of this season, thankfuckinggod. ]]