rodlox (rodlox) wrote,

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Being human fic: "New Home"

Title: New Home

Author: Keenir
Spoilers: 1.03
Pairing(s): George/Nina
Character(s): George, Nina, Annie, Mitchell, Nina’s dad
Word count: 732
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: None of them are mine.

Summary: Nina offers them the run of her place.

Author's notes: Let’s assume that the preview’s hints are true, and the trio is booted out of their flat. What next? Well, maybe this.


“George,” Nina said, not loudly or emphatically, but in such a way that he knew she was addressing him…and not, you know, talking about him.

He stopped in his slow escape down the hallway, any hope of going unnoticed now up in smoke. “Yeah? Morning, Nina. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Very, now,” she replied. “Got a question for you, though.”

Oh dear God. “Yes?” putting on his best Helpful George face. You’re not shedding, are you? I was confounded as hell when I started doing that….and since that leads to…Oh dear God. “Yes?” some bit anxious.

If you want to talk about what happened, I’ll talk. “I heard you’ve been evicted from your place. You’re welcome at my house.” Hurriedly, like George when he wanted to drop in a bit of important information that hadn’t crossed his mind during the main thought of conversation, “If you want, that is. If not, no worry.”

“Oh I’d love to. But are you sure…?”

“Sure what?” Nina asked.

“You know.”

“No, George. If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

“Aren’t you worried that, you know, people might talk?” If you want to talk about what happened last night, I’ll talk

Nina shrugged indifferently. “Let ‘em talk.”

“I don’t want to -”

“What? Ruin my reputation?” Nina put a hand to his cheek long enough for him to feel it, not long enough to draw attention. “You couldn’t if you tried.”

Let’s not test that, shall we?

Nina was still talking: “I have to warn you, though, my father haunts the attic.”

George nodded knowingly, then, just to be sure, asked, “He’s a ghost?” and mentally kicked himself. “I mean, I’m sorry to hear -”

“He’s not dead yet,” she said. “So, you interested?”

“Yeah! I mean, sure, since its okay with you. And you don’t mind Mitchell?” Thinking fast, “I sort of owe him, as he let me stay with him when I didn’t have anywhere to stay, so…”

“Sure. Just make sure he understands there’s no smoking in the house.”

Those cigarettes were from a visiting ghost, but it’d be quibbling to say so. “I will pass that along to him,” George said.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The first morning in Nina’s house, George found Mitchell and Annie already in the kitchen fixing eggs and flapjacks and coffee and tea and orange juice and milk. “Morning,” George said.

“What do you feel like?” Mitchell asked.

The night, being a New Moon, had passed largely without incident…though Nina had this really neat thing she could do to your ear… George shook himself. “Eggs, please,” he requested.

“Sleep well?” Annie asked.

“Oh yes, very.”

“She said sleep,” Mitchell said.

“Ha ha,” George said.

And with that, into the kitchen padded a silver-haired spitting image of Doctor John Watson, which made Annie wonder if Mitchell had been in any Sherlock Holmes movies. “You must be George,” the Watson dobblegangr said.

“I am,” George said. “It’s an honour to meet you, sir. Your daughter does you credit.”

Inwardly, Mitchell groaned. There’s a reason I don’t talk like that – and it’s not purely because it sounded dated when I was a kid. “I’m Mitchell,” he introduced himself.

“Ah yes,” the father said, studiedly neutral. Holding out one hand to George, he asked, “Want some?” referring to the open can of beans he was carrying around with him.

George shook his head. “Thanks but no.”

“There’s no bacon,” Nina’s father said as Nina quietly slipped into the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “I know they give your people trouble.”

“Because I’m Jewish,” George said.



“Because you’re a werewolf.”

Mitchell narrowly – and noisily – had trouble swallowing his coffee. Part of George wondered if it was intended as a deliberate distraction.

“I – what?” George asked as innocently as he could in the circumstances.

“Da-ad,” Nina warned. “Don’t start this again,” she pleaded.

George sprayed his coffee back into his cup. “What?” he squeaked.

“Sorry, George. I apologize for my father,” Nina said. “He’s a cryptozoologist who happens to think that every guy I’ve ever brought home -” over the last ten years.

“All three of them,” her father said, “including this one.”

“- are werewolves.”

“Huh,” George said.

Annie started giggling.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The End
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