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New Fic: Being Surprised

Being Surprised
Fandom: Being Human UK
Rated: G
Category: Gen, Humor. Friendship. Trio.
Series: Pink House.
Spoilers: Though the Heavens Fall (very minor).
Summary: George and Annie have a surprise for Mitchell.
Word Count: 832
Note: This one is all for Melissa. Happy Birthday FTW.


John Mitchell grabbed his coat from the back of the couch and shrugged it on.

“Alright, I’m off then,” he said.

“Now, wait just a minute,” protested George from his seat on the couch. “Where do you think you’re going?”

Mitchell stared at George for a long minute, almost as if he thought George had asked a trick question.

“Um… to work?” he finally answered.

George grinned, slapped both hands on his knees, and stood. “Actually, you’re not,” he proclaimed.

Mitchell’s brow furrowed. “And why  not?” he asked.

“Because,” said George, “I took the liberty of getting you the night off.”

Mitchell blinked in confusion. “Why would you do that? How did you do that?”

“Oh, I know a few folk in the scheduling department. Pulled a few strings,” said George, waving his fingers in the air like a puppeteer and coming around behind Mitchell to pull him into a one-armed embrace.

George led Mitchell to the couch and turned him around.

“Now,” he said, “sit.”

Mitchell blinked again but did as he was told, clearly thinking George had lost his marbles.

“Thank you,” said George. “Now, stay there. I’ll be right back.”

Mitchell nodded and shrugged his coat off again. Just as George disappeared, he called after him.


A disembodied voice answered from the kitchen. “Yeah?”

“You didn’t answer the first question,” said Mitchell.

“What’s that?” asked George.

“Why did you do that?”

“Because,” said George triumphantly as he returned to the living room carrying a large sheet cake and with Annie trailing behind him. “You shouldn’t have to work on your birthday.”

Mitchell stood and gaped at his friends. “What? How? I mean… And I really don’t like…”

“Oh, just blow out the candles, Mitchell,” said Annie, interrupting his muttering. “Mind you, I had to do one for every decade, but it’s the thought that counts, right?”

Mitchell snorted a small laugh. “Fair enough,” he said. Then he shrugged, took a huge breath, and blew out the candles in one try.

Annie clapped her hands wildly. “Oh, that means you get a wish, Mitchell. What’d you wish for?”

“Oh, come on, Annie. You know I can’t tell you,” said Mitchell, with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “If I do, it won’t come true.”

“Fine,” said Annie. “Be that way.”

She crossed her arms and flopped down on the couch, clearly pouting but not really meaning it, while George set the cake down on the coffee table and went to the kitchen  to get plates, knives, and forks.

When he came back, the men set about cutting the cake and devouring it while Annie made conversation with them. They all laughed more than once, and many compliments were paid to the resident ghostly chef and the werewolf who procured not only a surprise night off for the man of the hour but also the ingredients.

It wasn’t until half the cake was gone and The Maltese Falcon was half over that Mitchell asked the question that had been eating at him all night.

“George?” he asked.

“Yeah, Mitchell?”

“How did you know? I’ve never told you.”

George chuckled. “Well, I can read, you know,” he answered.

Mitchell gave George a puzzled look, not understanding his answer.

George sighed, paused the movie, and turned sideways on the couch to face Mitchell.

“Mitchell, you know me. Am I the kind of guy who would just move in with someone without researching him?”

“As I recall, you were pretty desperate at the time,” answered Mitchell, shoving another bite of cake into his mouth.

George considered that, then nodded in agreement. “True. But still. The internet is a wonderful thing, Mitchell. And in case you didn’t know, you’re officially dead. Killed in action in France in the first World War. Not exactly the hardest records to find.”

“You looked me up?” asked Mitchell, flabbergasted.

“I was curious! Do you blame me?”

Mitchell stared at George, not sure if he should be angry or impressed. “A little, yeah!”

“Oh, come on, Mitchell,” argued George. “I think it’s pretty understandable, given the circumstances.”

Mitchell opened his mouth to argue, then closed it again. He didn’t know what to say.

But Annie, sensing one of the boy’s arguments was about to turn into one of the boy’s tussles and that she would be left to clean up the mess, knew just the thing.

“Well, I don’t know about that,” she mused, “but I do know one thing.”

George and Mitchell both turned to her expectantly.

Annie smirked at them. “He sure does eat a lot for a dead guy,” she said, hooking a thumb toward Mitchell.

For just a second, it was silent in the flat.

Then Mitchell erupted into a roaring laugh, and George joined him.

Annie congratulated herself on a job well done, and the trio soon resumed their movie.

And for the first time in a long time, on this particular July twenty-ninth, John Mitchell didn’t regret that the official record was wrong.


( 2 comments — Leave a comment )
Jan. 12th, 2012 09:48 am (UTC)
Fab as always. Love your ficlets and this one is no exception :)
Jan. 12th, 2012 07:38 pm (UTC)
Thanks, you! I had to write something for my best Being Human buddy's birthday, so...here we are!
( 2 comments — Leave a comment )


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