Annie always made breakfast.

Hal would descend the stairs at 6:45 each morning and Tom would thunder down sometime after him and…there would be breakfast. Nothing special or complicated. Sometimes it was toast and tea, other times it would stretch to scrambled eggs, some days it was just cereal. But Annie always made sure Hal had an even number of raisins in his Ready Brek and Tom got extra jam on his toast. It was that kind of thing.

Six weeks had passed since the explosion. Hal had been granted qualified freedom by Tom after he regained control of his bloodlust. He was returning to work at the café this morning after a protracted bout of fictional pneumonia.

The household routines had changed around him during the time he spent tied to that kitchen chair in the living room and new routines were born. But mornings still felt wrong.

Hal went downstairs at 6:45 as usual and felt the wrongness. He made his way past the blank kitchen table into the cold, empty kitchen. Everything was dim. No warm scent of tea, no immediate barrage of chatter. He sighed, put on the kettle, and began making instant cereal for Tom and himself.

He took down the box of raisins. Annie always put in twenty. Hal put in twenty. Then he decided on thirty for Tom. He thought Tom might be having one last growth spurt, the way he had been eating lately…

Alex rent-a-ghosted into the kitchen and leaned her hips against a counter. Her preferred method of moving seemed to be transporting herself around to lounge against things. Young women today never seemed to stand up straight. Hal's eyes flickered to her and he went back to counting raisins silently.

"Did you take it in turns to make breakfast before?" Alex inquired, watching his strange ritual unfold. She was understandably curious about the past relationships and arrangements of this little, evolving household.

"No." Hal replied. "Annie kept the house and cooked, mostly."

"So, super ghost powers, gorgeous, and a model housewife? You must've loved her." Alex said, casually sarcastic.

"Yes." Hal replied curtly.

"Oh." Alex was taken aback by that. "Sorry." She added, casting down her eyes.

Hal sighed internally. He knew what she must be assuming. Another modern plague on humans – they thought everything was about sex.

Yes, Hal loved Annie. But not in the way John Mitchell had. Hal never felt more than an initial passing male curiosity about what Annie might have had underneath that grey stretchy material. He would be first to say that Annie was a lovely woman, but she'd felt like family to him.

"Nevermind." Hal responded to Alex's apology. He poured some milk over both bowls of cereal and prepared two mugs of tea. He glanced at the clock on the microwave. "Have you seen Tom yet? We'll be late for work." He said to Alex.

Alex vanished. Doors slammed upstairs, voices exchanged conversation, and moments later Alex popped back into the kitchen to slouch in a singularly unladylike manner against the fridge. "He's coming." She announced just as the rumble of Tom's feet shuddered through the house.

"'Ey." Tom greeted as he burst into the kitchen. He saw the food on the counter and took the bowls to the kitchen table as Hal brought the tea. "You make this, mate?" He said to Hal as he plopped himself into a chair and began to eat.

"Such as it is." Hal said, joining him at the table.

Tom blinked. "Thanks." He said.

Hal didn't quite know how to respond to polite thanks for a bowl of instant cereal so he simply nodded and began the tedious process of eating his own breakfast. Each bite had two raisins in it. It didn't taste good. It never did. Chewing and swallowing just helped control his hunger.

"So." Alex said.

Tom turned to her with his usual sweetly attentive expression and Hal frowned at her over the rim of his mug.

"Annie took care of you, eh?" Alex continued.

Tom nodded firmly. "Yup." He said.

"I hope you're not expecting…" Alex began, with a teasing expression.

"We wouldn't dream of imposing on your very busy schedule." Hal said drily, cutting her off.

Alex looked disappointed. It was clear that she wanted to join in, but she wanted to do so under protest. Hal wasn't playing.

Tom looked warily between Hal and Alex.

"Awright?" He said uncertainly.

"I suppose I should do what I can around the house – keep things running." Alex now offered. "S'pose it's what Annie was hoping when she took me under her wing like that."

"Yeah?" Tom said, smiling at her. Hal was silent.

"Well, I have a lot of experience taking care of a houseful of boys." Alex said, warming to the subject. "I make a brilliant fried chop."

Tom's grin widened. "Yeah?" He repeated hopefully.

"Sure. Why not?" Alex said. "Not like I have much else to do with myself."

"What about resolving your unfinished business?" Hal said. It sounded more like a challenge than conversation.

"How do I know my unfinished business isn't frying chops for the vampire who drank my blood?" Alex said, one pretty eyebrow rising saucily at him.

Hal's frown deepened to a glare.

"Oh, don't be such a lemon." Alex scolded, her tone exasperated.

"A lemon?" Hal echoed haughtily.

"Yeah. You look like you've sucked on one." Alex said. "Sour puss. I was only joking."

"I'm afraid I don't always understand modern humor." Hal said stiffly.

Alex rolled her eyes and shoved away from the fridge to clear Tom's now-empty bowl and mug. As she did so, she gave Tom's scarred head a gentle tousle with the ease of a woman who is long-used to showing affection to a multitude of rough-and-tumble little brothers. Tom looked paralyzed with happiness. Hal could almost watch Tom actively casting Alex as his new mother.

"Bring home a couple of chops – not too thick, mind – and we'll see if I've still got the touch." Alex told Tom.

"Yes, ma'am." He nodded with an eager smile and pushed back his chair to thunder back upstairs, presumably to shave and brush before work.

Alex looked at Hal pointedly, waiting for his reaction.

"That was kind." Hal murmured.

"Yeah, well. I'm a nice girl, really." Alex said, her eyes sparkling cheekily as ever.

"Tom is a bit of a…lost boy." Hal started.

"I know." Alex said. Her expression became more serious. "I know boys." She explained simply.

Hal nodded with a jerk. "Good." He said. He stood and picked up his own dishes. Alex was there in front of him in an instant, trying to take the bowl and mug from his grasp. "No." Hal said quietly. "You don't have to do anything for me."

"I need something to do." Alex protested. Her fingers brushed against his in a battle for his dishes. They were soft delicate hands and they left a tingly chill where they touched him. His dead heart pounded oddly in his chest and he quickly drew away and put his dishes into the sink.

"If you need something to do then take care of Tom." Hal suggested roughly.

"Okay. And what about you?" Alex said, watching him from those laughing, wise eyes.

"I'm not a lost boy." Hal said. It sounded like a warning.

"Well, we're all a little bit lost, eh?' Alex said softly.

Hal didn't answer. He just turned and began running hot water into the sink and adding soap. He jumped when he felt one of those soft tingly hands come to rest briefly on his left shoulder blade. He turned, shaking off her touch, and stared down at her.

"Budge." Alex ordered gently. "What's done is done. It's as easy to take care of two as one anyhow. Don't you need to brush before you go?" She leaned in as if she were going to sniff Hal's breath. He recoiled. "That bad, eh?" She grinned smugly at him and he realized that she had accomplished her end game. With his retreat, he had moved out of her way. She plunged both hands into the soapy water and began to wash dishes with easy skill.

Hal quickly left the room. He climbed the stairs and passed a newly shaven and minty fresh Tom in the hallway to the bath. His heart was thudding again in his chest, moving borrowed blood sluggishly around his body and causing color to rise in his face and neck. Horrible wrenching guilt knotted in his stomach. Seeing Alex flit about the house, permanently wearing the dress for their date, was nearly unbearable. The entire situation was untenable for so many reasons.

Hal missed Annie. He missed her crazy earnestness and organization. He missed her Mona Lisa smiles and even her guerilla-attack-style displays of affection. He missed the easy comfort of the home she made and the feeling of being a…well, a brother, he supposed.

Alex was no replacement. Alex would have to go.

Alex didn't make Hal feel brotherly. Not at all.