A/N: This is an alt. for the end of episode six; it takes place while Nina and George continue their discussion and after Mitchell has finished his cereal.

Mitchell excused himself from the table; the conversation had turned distant and the cereal bowl was empty. Annie had been fiddling with her latest cup of tea for a few minutes and she didn't seem to be noticing much. Next to her the stirring spoon ticked like a clock pendulum, but she didn't notice that either.

He walked up the stairs and paused a moment by George's room, he could hear the faintest muffled sounds of the conversation going on inside. They would be alright, he decided, until the morning at least. He turned to his room and went without bothering to turn on the light. He preferred it this way, his eyes needed to rest after the daylight anyways.

Somewhere in the room came a creak, the noise his rickety old bed made when he got in it each night. By instinct he backed up flat against the wall.

"Who's there?" He tried to make his voice as even as possible as he groped for the light switch. His fingers had it and he flicked the switch. "Annie?"

His voice startled her, but not before he could take in that she had been sitting the same way she had been before; her hand was even curved around a tea cup that was no longer there.

"Mitchell?" She looked at her surroundings confusedly. "What am I…. How did I? I'm so sorry Mitchell. I thought I was getting control of this whole popping around when least expected thing." She stood to leave, looking embarrassed, flushed almost; that is if a ghost could look flushed.

"It's okay Annie." He held out a hand towards her, signaling for her to sit back down. "Ya just scared the living daylights out of me."

She laughed, "Shouldn't it be the dead daylight out of you?" She laughed at her own joke. Mitchell just stared; sometimes the jokes were truly horrible. Her laugh trailed off, "Sorry."

"Why'd ya come up here? Is everything alright?"

"I didn't do it on purpose. I was just thinking… feeling a bit lonely and then suddenly, poof!"

"Thinkin' more about Owen?" He controlled himself not to add 'that wanker' to the end of his sentence.

"No, actually." She smiled sincerely at the realization. "Just trying to figure this whole thing out. What is going to happen to George and Nina; to the rest of us… you know…"

She trailed off and began picking at some fuzz on his quilt. Mitchell tried to repress a smile at another one of her silly little eccentricities. It did not take long for him to notice the shining streak of tears on her cheek. Quickly he sat down next to her, putting a hand to hers.

"What is it? You can tell me."

"I just want…" she began between sobs. "I just wanted George to be alright. Of all of us he had a chance, to be almost normal. He had the chance to do all of those things that people do when they're alive. He could have had that with Nina, if this all hadn't happened. Now what will happen to him?"

"I don't know Annie," he said after a few moments of silence. "But I can hope that Nina will take in stride. They seemed to have something solid there for awhile, perhaps it was love. Perhaps it is love. We can only wait and see. I don't believe that it was fear or fascination that kept Nina looking through that window. Love, real love, can over come many things"

"Love?" She nearly spat the word out as she pulled away and began to pace the small room. "Can you actually say after all of this that you can believe that there's any true power of love? You of all people have seen what idiots love makes people, the horrible things it makes us do?"

One of Mitchell's ashtrays flew across the room and into the wall opposite. Annie shrank back and immediately began to pick up the pieces.

"I'm sorry, Mitchell," she stuttered. "I hope that wasn't sentimental."

"It was only from Studio 54."

Annie stopped and stared wide eyed.

Mitchell cracked a wide smile, "I'm only joshin' you. I swiped it from the pub last week."

Annie let out a breath and continued to pick up the smashed ashtray when she felt his hand on hers. He led her back to her spot on the edge of his bed and put his hand to her cheek, drawing her eyes to his.

"You're right Annie," he said softly. "Love makes people do incredibly stupid things and I don't blame you for only being able to see that right now. You have every right to believe that. But I do still believe; I still want to believe that there is some good out there."

Her eyes remained cold, but he would not let her look away.

"How many times in your life have you been in and out of love Mitchell? How can you possibly say love does anything good?"

There was a long pause while Mitchell mulled over what to say; he wouldn't meet Annie's demanding stare and replied while looking over her shoulder.

"You're right Annie, I've loved a lot of people in my life and that is not a crime. That, I think, is something that has kept me a little bit human. Even after all those horrible things I have done, I could still care about, love someone. But, I have to believe that it is a good thing, or else what's the point?"

Annie was crying again in earnest. "But what is the point, Mitchell? What is the point is we're just going to hurt them?"

He pulled her close, wrapped his arms around her and let the shiver of her coldness run down his spin.

"I don't know Annie." She sobbed into his shoulder and he petted her hair; it felt like frozen silk he thought for a moment. "But I do know that hurting those you care about isn't something only we do; that is something human too. It is something that happens to everyone, living, dead or not quite either. I could have hurt you and George because of my stupid actions over the last few days, but you took me back. You let me come home."

Annie pushed herself away from him and stared him down.

"Of course we did you twat! We…" She paused.

Mitchell raised him eyebrows, very pleased. "Go on, darlin'."

"Of course we did… we love you."

He cupped her face in his hands and brought their faces close to each others. "Exactly."

Annie smiled softly, but then her brow furrowed again.

"Yes?" Mitchell asked softly, not moving.

"Why is it different?" Annie asked. "What is it different with you?"

"Why is what different?"

Neither of them moved.

"Touching, feeling." Annie moved quickly away and was on her feet, smiling nervously. "Other people have touched me, but it's not the same as when you do it. When George touches me it is usually as if I know what the touch should feel like and that's what I feel. But with you I actually can feel things. Why do you think that is?"

Mitchell smiled back, his eyes darting around the room.

"I dunno, Annie. I thought about that a little a couple weeks ago. After I … you know…" Annie waved the words away; she knew they were thinking of that awkward little moment after Tully left. "Anyways, I thought that maybe it's because I'm not quite alive and you're not quite dead. We actually have a little more common ground than the others we meet."

She looked pensive as she continued to pace around with this new thought. Mitchell just watched her, reclining slightly with his arms behind his back and smiled. She went on like this for a few minutes before realizing what she was doing and that Mitchell was just sitting there, staring. She stopped in mid-stride.

"Sorry, Mitchell, I should probably go and let you rest, shouldn't I?"

Mitchell just shrugged as Annie backed up towards the door. He got to his feet to escort her out, but she turned as she reached for the door handled. They were almost nose to nose.

"Do you think it's possible for someone like us to be in love again, I mean really, truly, deeply in love?"

"No."

She looked at him quizzically. "No? But why not?"

"Don't get angry with me, Annie. I believe we can love a lot of people, but there a certain kind that only comes around once. Even if you live forever."

"But what about," she trailed off.

"What about you?" He finished for her. "Annie, I know you loved Owen, a lot. But I think he's made it clear that he never cared one iota about you. Do you honestly think that real, true love could only be one-sided?"

She smiled weakly and Mitchell knew this wouldn't be the last time he would tell her this. He pulled her close again.

"You have a great capacity for love, Annie. I believe there's more you have to give."

She stayed for a moment, but then pulled away and opened the door. She spoke without turning back to him this time.

"Have you ever been really, truly in love Mitchell?"

"Good night, Annie."

He closed the door and she stood in the hallway for awhile. She was walking towards the stairs when she heard the door open again, slowly. She didn't turn back.

"No, Annie, no I haven't."

The door closed again and the air became still. Annie took a deep breath and smiled despite of herself and began down the stairs; perhaps tonight she'd finally get to cleaning behind that fridge.

A/N: Hey everyone thanks for reading my little story! I'd love it if you left a message! It could be anything from "Thanks for the quick read" or a list of why Mitchell is sexy or even you could go on and on about your love for tea, even if you can't drink it or why whenever you want a cup of tea there seem to be no clean cups! just a little note would make my day!