Echoes of sense 2/9
Title: Echoes of sense Part 2/9
Author: eruvandeaini
Characters: Annie/Mitchell, George, OC
Rating: R for sexual situations and slight language
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada yada
Summary: Annie and Mitchell find more problems in their mutual attraction than just the obvious undead thing
A/N: Set after the end of the first series, spoilers contained therein.
First chapter here
Mitchell was up in a second. Annie squashed her flushed disappointment and began to follow him.
"Stay here," he insisted.
"Mitchell, I'm a ghost, not a fragile bloom, it's not like anything can hurt me," she told him.
He looked crossly at her, clearly wanting to keep her in the safety of the house. Even though sexual excitement had made a sudden and unwelcome exit, she felt a pulse of warmth again as she realized Mitchell was being protective.
"Alright, but just, you know, be careful," he muttered quietly, as they made their way to back of the house.
In the darkness outside, a figure stood, wearing a simple black coat. He had smashed over the brazier on which Annie had destroyed the final reminders of her previous life, months before.
"Sorry for the melodramatics. Wanted to get your attention, and you're not answering texts," the man said, folding his arms. "Did I interrupt something?"
"Jude," Mitchell said flatly.
"Oh, the thrill of being recognized. It's like you poked me on facebook," Jude shivered, exaggeratedly.
"What do you want? I thought Herrick's demise would put an end to all this," Mitchell said, his arm instinctively in front of Annie, who stood beside him.
"Well, yes, I should think you did. And if it was up to me, I'd be quite happy to leave you playing 'Who you gonna call?' with your creepy friends. But circumstances change," Jude sneered.
"They do?"
Annie heard Mitchell's curious tone, and quailed inside. Was he still hoping there was some way to embrace his vampire nature benevolently? The feeding room surely broke that illusion.
"It seems you are quite the flavour of the month among your previous associates. The consensus seems to be that, as you and your pedigree chum defeated Herrick, you are the one with the chops to lead the rest of us forward."
"I'm not interested," Mitchell replied abruptly. Perhaps too quickly.
"Hmm, I thought that's what you'd probably say," Jude said, running a hand across his jaw thoughtfully. "Dangerous choice."
"Oh please, what do you lot think you can do that you haven't already tried? Just leave us alone!" Annie said, pouring as much scorn as she could into her tone. When she heard herself, it sounded a little less impressive.
Jude laughed, "Woooo, got her rattling her chains for me have you? How terrifying! I think I just wet myself."
"Just go, she's right, there's nothing you can do," Mitchell said, beginning to turn and usher Annie back inside.
"Oh, not us. We don't actually want to hurt you. We just think you'd be safer with us than picked off alone," Jude said, examining his fingernails casually.
Mitchell stopped. He pressed his lips together and turned back to face the smug little man in the yard.
"What?" he said derisively, but Annie could sense a sudden nervousness in him.
"You know, safety in numbers. Because the others are coming, and they don't want to negotiate."
"Others?"
"Yup. Why don't you come along to the undertakers tomorrow and we can discuss it," Jude said with enforced cheeriness. "In the meantime, have a nice evening making ectoplasm, or whatever it is you freaks do..."
Mitchell set his jaw and pushed Annie back in the house behind him, not taking his eyes off the smiling figure until he had pushed the back door firmly closed and locked it. He stood silent for a moment, before taking hold of Annie's hand and pulling her back to the lounge.
"What was that all about?" she said lightly, judging levity would be the best policy.
Mitchell held his hands over his mouth for a brief minute, before shaking his head.
"I don't know. But I think we need to find out."
~*~
Half an hour later, Mitchell and Annie were standing outside Nina's house, waiting for the door to open. There was a light on inside, but no response to Mitchell's initial knock.
"Maybe they're still out," Annie said, her arms folded against herself, protectively.
"What with George being such a party animal and all..." Mitchell muttered, trying the bell again.
"Well, maybe they're in and, you know..." Annie replied.
Mitchell caught her eyes and threw her a lopsided smirk. She looked down, a little embarrassed given the position she and Mitchell were in just a short time earlier.
"Yeah, I think I have an idea," He said, flirtatiously. "But this really can't wait 'til morning."
Just then, the hall light flicked on, and the front door opened. George peered around the edge, a dark blue dressing gown clutched round his shoulders, and his glasses slightly askew.
"Oh goody, I am so enormously pleased to see you here. Foreplay is never quite complete without an unexpected housecall," he said.
"George, we really need to talk," Mitchell insisted, gesturing apologetically.
Annie smiled unconvincingly.
"No, we really don't. You really need to go home, and I really need to get my back to my, by now, extremely frustrated girlfriend," George said, beginning to push the door closed.
Mitchell put a foot in the gap. He made a wincing expression and shook his head, "I wouldn't disturb you unless it was really important, you know that. And we'll not be all night, I promise."
George rolled his eyes dramatically and opened the door.
"Come in, come in. I'll just go put the whipped cream back in the fridge and inform Nina we have guests," he said, irritated, and disappeared.
Mitchell and Annie sat on the sofa together. She had pulled her sleeves over her thumbs and was rubbing her hands together. Mitchell, next to her, had laced his gloved hands together, mirroring her. She realized they were sitting very close, and that his thigh was pressing against hers. She tried not to dwell on being on their sofa at home, but for a moment her eyes drifted closed and she was reliving the sense of pressure against her. She snapped her eyes open when George returned, the dressing gown neatly tied now.
"Nina doesn't feel like being hostess, it's nothing personal. Now, what can I do for you, as quickly as possible?" he asked.
"We've got a problem with the vampires again," Mitchell told him.
"A problem?" George said.
"One came to the house this evening. He wants to meet Mitchell tomorrow at the undertakers," said Annie.
"He mentioned 'others'. I don't know what he meant, but I don't think it's good," Mitchell added.
"Well, you can't seriously be thinking of going to meet with them? The last time a vampire visited us he tried to stake you, Mitchell, what do you think they're going to do if you go to them?" George's voice started hitching up towards the end of his questions.
"I'll be careful," Mitchell assured him.
"Oh yes, I think we did this, didn't we? I'm not sure your tendency to rush off sacrificing yourself is something I would call 'careful', but perhaps I'm just too picky," George was scornful.
"I could go with him. We all could," Annie suggested, putting her hand on Mitchell's arm.
George sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"George, I think there's more to it, I really do. If they've got some information about something else then I think we need to be wise and not ignore it, don't you?" Mitchell said, leaning forward and putting his hand on George's shoulder. The three of them sat for a moment, connected in resignation.
"Okay!" George said finally. "We'll all go along to the house of death tomorrow. Now, can you please go home?"
"Sure," Mitchell beamed, looking at Annie and suddenly winking at her. "We'll see you tomorrow."
~*~
Mitchell closed the door behind them and leaned back against it. He sighed, and motioned to Annie to come closer, pulling her into a hug. He squeezed her, settling his head into her neck for a moment. No maddening pulse to tempt him, he enjoyed her feeling safe and trusting in his arms. He could sense the fear in her, though - this fragile normal the three of them held in their hands could so easily splinter and blow away in a strong wind.
He’d wanted out many times before he took the leap, but this place was something he never even entertained the hope of. Standing here, feeling Annie so close, he felt the enormous weight of need press him down, the need to keep this for as long as he possibly could, coupled with the fear that just by wanting it so much, he would destroy it somehow.
He wondered if that was the fear that rippled through Annie on occasion. She was so steady, so feisty, full of a different kind of tempting life. Not throbbing, teasing blood and heartbeat. She was like the licks of a flame, warm and comforting, but always with the potential to spark into something blazing, given the right sort of provocation.
He’d seen the terrifying roar of her when she had finally confronted Owen, and he’d seen the flaming heat when she was protecting her friends. Something earlier that night had begun to smoulder and he realized he was toying with the desire to see how big he could build that fire.
There was the fear again, he thought, and he pulled slowly out of the embrace, putting his hands on her shoulders. Annie didn’t look at him like she was a dangerous blaze, though; she looked like a guttering candle, buffeted by a strong draft, and there were tears in her eyes.
“Annie…” he said, sliding one hand to her neck.
She leaned her head to one side and blinked, a few tears spilling out as she did so.
“I…I just don’t know if I can do it again. I’m not like you and George, full of real, strong cravings and life - I’m just a wisp of memory. I’m frightened, and I don’t even know what I’m frightened of now,” she stammered, brushing the tears away crossly.
“Annie, you are more than that. You’re strong, you’re powerful - got a whole new skill set, remember?” he told her, hating to see her so diminished again.
“Yeah, fabulous. A mighty warrior who can be dissolved by her house burning down,” she replied dismissively.
He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, “How can I convince you?! If you’re just a wisp of nothing, how come I could feel the strength of every one of your kisses earlier?”
He had got the end of the sentence before his brain caught up with his mouth, and he wasn’t entirely sure he was happy with what he’d said. There was a slight pause while she took his words in.
“Really?” She said, and he was amused to hear a slight tone of pride.
“Yes, really.” He smiled, shrugging his coat off. He tossed it to one side and took a step towards the kitchen, before turning back to her. He was going to say something comfortable and reassuring, but he was knocked slightly backwards by the force of Annie suddenly against him and the rushing pressure sensation of her lips against his. Her arms were wrapped around his neck and around his head, her whole body pressed against his and it was very much like being enveloped by a whirlwind.
After a few seconds of standing like a stunned animal, struggling with his balance, his good sense kicked in, and he grabbed her shoulders, returning the kiss for all he was worth. She didn’t pull back like he half expected her to, and her ongoing response tripped something inside him that overrode the caution. He wanted to see how hot she burned, and the undercurrent of fear about it just made him want it more.
He spun her around, pushing her against the wall, his hands slipping from her shoulders, down her waist and round her hips. She made a maddening little moan into his mouth as he nudged his thigh between hers, wanting to be as close as he could, savouring the blast of energy that was coming from her as she clung to him. All his other responses were working predictably well, too, and he gasped as she grabbed his backside and pressed herself onto him, moving her hips in a fierce rhythm.
He couldn’t hold the kiss, breaking it to steady himself from the sensory assault that Annie was making.
“Annie… this… um…” he struggled to string the words together, trying to focus on her face.
Her eyes were dark, her expression one of serious determination. He’d never seen her quite like this.
“This needs to happen upstairs,” she said helpfully, with a confidence he’d not heard before either, not even when she snapped Owen’s wits.
The thought sent a thrill of delicious fear through him, and he nodded mutely, pulling back and leading her by the hand towards the staircase.
He led her into his bedroom and pulled her into a kiss again, jumping with shock when the door slammed shut behind them. He looked at it, and when he looked back, Annie had pulled the grey top off and flung it aside. In the dim light, the white vest top she wore underneath stood out clearly, the curve of her waist inviting his hands again. He stripped off his gloves before taking hold of her, and kissed her hungrily, as she tugged at his t-shirt, breaking the kiss only to pull it off. He did the same with her vest, and suddenly, she seemed enormously vulnerable, skin to skin with him.
He could still feel the force of passion from her, but now the fear came through strongly too, the same fearful desire that was coursing through him, too. He took her face in both his hands.
“Annie, if you don’t really want to, we really don’t have to,” he said, looking into her eyes.
“Mitchell, I want to. I want to feel something real and strong, because if I can’t then how can I be real and strong if I need to, when I need to? I want to. I want you,” she said, still a tremor in her voice, but her words sure and purposeful.
It was all the gentlemanly restraint Mitchell could bear, and they tumbled on the bed with frantic kisses. He felt her hands at his waist, loosening his trousers, and he scooted them off quickly, taking the opportunity to caress down her body, and unhook her own trousers. He took a slightly teasing amount of time to slip them down her legs, watching her writhe at each touch of his mouth against her skin.
He pushed it until he heard her growl, and then he was above her, smiling mischievously, his eyes alight. She smiled back warmly, and he felt her legs curl around his waist. He held the moment for as long as he could, but then she was pulling him in and the sensation of being gripped in a whirlwind again became beyond intense. He was inside her now, and it was glowing energy.
Beneath him, he could see her eyes closed, and her mouth open, and when he bent to kiss her, it was like completing a circuit. Instead of the dark pulsing need for blood, as they moved against each other, he felt something more intense than simple physical friction, more like Annie was pure urgent living sensation.
He felt it increase, and increase, as he moved harder, and firmer against her, and he realized she was coming around him, the exquisite sounds she was making pushing him closer to the most intense orgasm of his long life. He clung to her, saying her name over and over until they were still, the glow of energy resting over them like a fine filmy coating. It was bliss.
They lay like that until morning, not sleeping, but in a peaceful doze, until they heard the sound of the front door open. Mitchell jerked up from the bed.
“Shit! It’s George!”