A/N: Sorry for the wait! I had this written awhile ago but I neglected to edit it and went on to start a few more stories. I hope you guys like this chapter. A little more introductions and not much else. Sorry! I've gotten into Rescue Me and stuff so I was working on that.

Disclaimer: Being Human & the characters don't belong to me! Only my OCs do. Obviously.

The very next day Maria helped me to pack up all of my things from her living room, where I'd been staying for the week. We ended up with a couple of boxes and a dark teal suitcase and shoved them all into her little car and sped off towards the house. Maria took corners extra sharp and sped through intersections without so much as hovering her foot over the brake. She was excited to see my new place of residence and get a glimpse of my roommates that she decided had to be "totally hot".

She turned the corner with a swift jerk of the steering wheel and I nearly fell out of my seat, clutching tightly at the leather interior of the door. The engine hummed loudly as she cruised down the street at a dangerous pace, barely paying attention to pedestrians and other cars. I instructed her to turn again and was thrown against the door as she did so. I managed to push myself away from the door and free an arm to point out at the pink house on the corner and shouted out, "That's it!" before she could pass it.

To no great surprise, she slammed on the brakes and my head snapped forward then back into the headrest. The car squealed at the sudden action and puttered anxiously as she released the brake and haphazardly sped forward close to the sidewalk and stopped suddenly again. She parked the car and turned it off, the engine giving off a heaving sigh of relief along with a cough. I pulled myself free from the seatbelt that had locked when Maria first hit the brakes. I rubbed my chest and shoulder in pain and stepped out onto the sidewalk, looking up at the two-story pink house.

"This is it?"

I looked back over at the car towards Maria who squinted at the top floor.

"Yeah."

"It's... cute."

"Cute?"

She smiled at me and winked. "I bet the house isn't the only thing that's cute."

"Oh, please." I rolled my eyes and hopped towards the back of the car and opened the trunk. Maria came around and leaned in to pull out one of the boxes that had slid farther back into the trunk. She looked back over at the house.

"Do you wanna see if they're here before we lug all this up there?"

"Well," I stood on the tip of my toes and looked over the top of Maria's car. "Their car is here."

"Okay. Go check."

"Fine, fine." I skipped up the sidewalk and to the doorway. I glanced back at Maria who raised her eyebrows at me and nodded towards the house. I turned back around and knocked twice lightly on the door. I bounced on my heels, stomach suddenly filled with butterflies. I took in a shuddering breath and rubbed my arms as I waited. I heard hurried footsteps and something drop on the floor with a solid thud. I winced, worried about what could have possibly just been broken, but the person didn't seem to mind because they reached the door mere second after the clattering noise and pulled it open. I looked up and was greeted by Mitchell. He Grinned don at me and his eyebrows raised, eyes wide and glowing.

"Hey!"

"Hi," I replied shyly, far too quiet for anyone to possibly hear, but I guess he knew what I was saying.

"You're right on time."

"Yeah, that's me.. always on time."

"No, that's good. Being late is bad, but being early is far more embarrassing. You want to be on time. I suppose there are some things where it's good to be early, or late, though... Anyways, that doesn't really matter because you're here. So... did you need help moving your stuff in?"

"Oh! Uh, I don't know. I don't have much, so I think I -"

"Hello, hello," came an unexpectedly smooth voice from over my shoulder. Mitchell and I turned out attention to the source of the voice – the young, thin, raven-haired Maria, cardboard box in her arms, displaying what could only be described as a smolder.

"Oh, hello," Mitchell said in reply. "I'm sorry, we haven't had the pleasure of meeting."

"Darn right we haven't had the pleasure," Maria smiled, shifting the weight of the box onto one arm and reached out with her now free arm. "I'm Maria."

"Mitchell," the curly-haired man answered as he reached out and shook Maria's hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine."

"Uh, how do you know.. Bridget?"

"Oh, I'm her co-worker! And she was living with me this past week."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I actually, I, uh, found your ad in the paper for her."

"What? You did?"

"Yeah."

"Well we owe you a big thank you; we're really excited to have Bridget here now."

Maria looked over at me, a smirk playing on her lips and her eyes shining mischievously. I silently pleaded with her not to say anything, but she wiggled her eyebrows at me. The entire interaction lasted maybe a second or two but it felt like a lifetime. She turned her attention back to Mitchell.

"Well I am certainly glad that you're excited to have Bridget here. I know I was very happy to have her as a roommate – even if only for a short time. She's a really fun person to have in the house."

"Yeah? Well..."

I felt Mitchell's eyes on me and I turned my gaze down to the stoop, suddenly interested in the concrete.

"...it'll be something new for us," he finished after a pause.

"Trust me, it'll be new for her, too."

A moment of dreaded silence in which I wanted to either disappear into the wall, turn into a puddle and absorbed into the giant crack in the concrete beneath us, or elbow Maria so hard in the ribs that we'd both be propelled somewhere else far away. But none of the above happened. We were left standing on the stoop in the chilly air. Finally something clicked in Mitchell's mind and he pushed the door open wider and stepped to the side.

"Come on inside; we'll get the other boxes."

Maria hopped up into the house, giving me another wink as she passed and asked where to put the box. Mitchell directed her to my bedroom upstairs but said that she could just leave them in the living room if she wanted. Of course, being Maria, she marched upstairs and to the bedroom with the box. I stepped into the house and glanced around. Before it had seemed so strange and unfamiliar to me, but now it seemed to be warmer, more open, more welcoming. Friendlier. If that was possible. It was like they had done something to the house to make me feel more at home, but as I studied the doorway and the kitchen and living room I noticed that they hadn't done anything to the house at all. There was still the curtains and tiles and dirty dishes piled in the sink and cups of tea sitting in the living room.

I watched as Mitchell hurried into the living room to collect a few cups of the tea, squatting down and collecting the cups into one pile in front of him. He stood up with four cups in his arms while the rest waited to be carted away. He glanced over at me and smiled. I blushed warmly and gave a half-smile back. He was wearing black skinny jeans, a form-fitting purplish-gray tank top and fingerless knit gloves. His silver belt shined in the early morning sun streaming in through the windows and doorway. I didn't realize I was staring until I saw him cock his head to the side and lower his eyes to mine.

"Something the matter?"

"Oh!" My face burned and I shook my head. "No, not at all."

"Well you just seemed to space out, so I thought maybe I did or said something."

"No, I was just..." Just, just what? Just staring at his impossibly perfect arms and flat stomach and waist that sloped in amazingly to his hips that rolled whenever he walked? Yeah, right. Like I was going to say that. "Just.. wondering.. aren't you cold?"

He glanced down at himself as if he'd forgotten what he was wearing and then nodded understandably at me, "Oh, right. Yeah, well, I was actually in the middle of getting dressed when you knocked."

"Oh my gosh! I'm sorry! I didn't realize. You should go get dressed then."

"Nah, it's all right. I mean, I might later but," he shrugged, "it's not too cold out right now." He gave me another smile before disappearing into the kitchen.

I covered my face with my hands and ran my fingers through my hair. This was not going as smoothly as I had originally hoped. I scratched my head and shoved my other hand in my pocket, glancing over at Mitchell as he came back through the entryway and into the living room.

"You don't have to stand there," he smiled, scooping up the other glasses in his hands. He stopped in front of me again, raising an eyebrow. "You can sit on the couch if you want. Or go up to your room, or stand on the stairs, or sit on the table or lay under the television or anything, really. It's your house too, now."

"Right, yeah. Um.. I'm – I'm okay here."

He eyed me for a bit before shrugging and walking into the kitchen. "Whatever makes your comfortable!" he called out. I heard water running and glasses clink loudly. I looked up the stairs at the sound of heavy footsteps hurrying down to the ground floor. Maria nodded at me, stepping down onto the tiled floor and stuck her hands into her jacket pockets.

"Where's Mitch?"

"He's in the kitchen," I nodded towards the room to the right of me. "And it's Mitchell."

"What?"

"It's – nothing."

"Oh, okay."

We both looked over to see the curly-haired man stride out of the kitchen, green apple slice halfway in his mouth. He looked from Maria to me and back. "What?"

"Other boxes? We should get them?"

"Oh! Right. Yeah, sure." He popped the crescent shaped piece of fruit into his mouth and hurried to the door. I stepped out of the way and followed him out, Maria following me. We trotted over to the car and dug around the trunk and backseat to bring out the other boxes and the suitcase. Maria closed the trunk hard and we hopped up the steps and into the house. We followed in a line up the stairs and to my new room. The boxes were set on the ground and the suitcase tossed on the bed.

"I really like your room, Bridget," Maria commented, glancing out the window. "It's got a nice street view."

I rolled my eyes playfully and thanked her. "Yeah, it'll be great hearing street traffic rather than your soap operas at 10pm."

"Hey, those are good shows."

"If they were any good, they'd put them on at a more reasonable time than 10! No one bothers to stay up that late to watch a TV show."

"I do."

"Other than you."

"Right. And I just love hearing your music at all hours. Radio, TV, computer. You've got it playing all the time."

"It's not even that loud! And half of the song I listen to were recommended by you."

"That doesn't mean I want to hear them thirteen times in a row."

"Well I guess you won't have to deal with that anymore anyways, since I've moved out."

"I guess not, thank God."

I tried not to smile and shook my head. "You're gonna miss me."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are! You're going to miss me waking you up for work and cooking and you're going to miss yelling at me."

"Yeah, that I will miss. But nothing else."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to rent out my couch so I have someone else to yell at."

"And you know what? You would."

Maria huffed and crossed her arms. "You're so stupid." Suddenly she turned to Mitchell and gave him a solid stare. "Can we have a moment alone, please?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." He gave a parting shrug and disappearing out of the door and down the hallway. I turned to look at Maria, confused. A question formed on my lips but she pulled me by the arm to the bed and away from the door.

"Are you sure about this?" Her voice was low, hushed.

"Yes. Why? Are you not?"

"No, I'm not. You've hardly just met them and you're moving in. With two guys. Two."

"You were all gung-ho for them just a moment ago. What happened?"

"Nothing happened, I just ..." I watched as she shifted on her feet and pressed her hand flat against something in her jean pocket. She seemed to be anxious about something, but I could tell she wasn't going to tell me what it was. "You've never been on your own, Bridget. You're … you're what they call fragile. And naïve. You're still a child!"

"You're the one who found the apartment for me."

"Yes but when I did it, I didn't think you'd actually... move out."

"Do you want me to stay with you then?"

"No, that's not it. I just want you to be careful. Call me to check in how things are going if we don't see each other at work, and text me whenever you need to. My phone'll always be on and you know where I live. You can come back to me if you decide to run away."

I huffed out a soft laugh, "I'm not going to run away."

"Okay, but just in case you do... you're welcome back at my place."

I softened my gaze towards her and nodded. "Thanks."

"Sure thing." She let go of me and stood up, pulling me down into a hug and kissed the side of my face. "I love you, kid. You gotta live your life, but gotta be alive to do it. Don't do anything stupid – nothing I wouldn't do."

"There's not much you wouldn't do."

"Oh, shut up. You know what I mean."

"Yes, I do."

She smiled and patted my arm. "Let's go downstairs, shall we? Maybe have a cuppa and get some juicy information about your other roommate from Mitchy, eh?"

I sighed heavily again, "It's Mitchell. Don't call him Mitchy. It's .. weird."

"Ooh, weird huh? Well I guess I'll just have to keep doing it." She grinned and hurried out the door. I chased after her, carefully treading down the stairs and into the kitchen. Maria pulled out a chair and sat down, folding her hands on the table. I joined her, sitting across from where she was and faced the sink where Mitchell was holding two clean cups.

"Would you like some tea?"

"Yeah that'd be great," Maria smiled as she turned around in her chair to look at the man. He looked over at me.

"You too?"

"Yeah, please."

"It'll be a while before the kettle," he commented as he filled the silver kettle with water and set it on the stove.

"That's alright," Maria smiled, turning back to me. "We don't mind waiting."

I glared at Maria who shrugged and smirked at me. I dropped the angry face when Mitchell walked up to the table and pulled out the chair between Maria and I and sat down. He folded his hands on the table top and looked between the two of us girls.

"So Bridget... you lived with Maria?"

"Yeah for a little bit."

"Is she a good housemate?"

I started to answer when I realized he was directing the question towards Maria. She hummed a knocking tune and raised an eyebrow at me, leaning on the table and grinning at Mitchell. "Oh, she's the worst. Absolutely terrible. I hated having her over at my house but, being the good citizen that I am, I just couldn't kick her out with no place to go. That's why I found her this place to stay."

"Really? Hmm..." Mitchell pretended to look as if he were musing over this new information and studied me, squinting his dark eyes. "Well she does look like a troublemaker."

"Oh, she is most definitely. Causes all sorts of trouble all day and night long; at work and at home. I had a terribly hard time corralling her up just to come see the house."

"What? I cam here before you did."

"Hush, Bridget, the adults are talking. See what I mean? So rude! Always interrupting someone."

"Mm-hmm... she causes trouble at work?"

"And at home! You'll be havin' to deal with her for several hours a day, huh?"

"Probably all day."

"How so?"

"She works at the hospital?"

"Yeah, in the cafeteria. Why?"

He sighed softly and looked over at me. "I'm a porter at the hospital."

"No."

"Yeah, me and George."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Wow. It really is a small world. Not really the world, just Bristol, huh? This is a small community. England. Really. England is just small in general."

Mitchell laughed softly and Maria pushed a strand of curly hair behind her ear. I couldn't help but feel jealous at the exchange. She was flirting... with my roommate! My old roommate was flirting with my new roommate and it was making me jealous. I tried to put my mind on something else but it wasn't working. I was sitting at the table right next to the two so it was hard to mentally transport to some other place where I wasn't being unnecessarily jealous of these two people. It was silly but still, it bothered me a bit.

The sudden shrieking of the kettle brought me out of the moment and I jumped slightly, a bit startled at the noise. Maria glanced over in my direction, giving me a confused look and Mitchell stood up, crossing to the stove and tuning off the burner. Steam pooled out of the spout of the silver kettle and the screaming died down slowly to a low whistle. Mitchell rummaged around with three ceramic mugs as he poured out tea for us. I rapped my fingers on the table nervously and Maria reached across towards me. I thought she was going to swat my hand but instead she pressed hers over mine and looked at me.

It's okay, she mouthed to me. You're fine. I didn't quite understand what she meant but she glanced back over shoulder at the Irishman who was filling the last cup. She turned back to me and smiled. I think he likes you, she mouthed, nodding back towards Mitchell.

Does not, I mouthed back.

Does too.

Nuh-uh. I think he likes you.

Oh, please. She rolled her eyes and squeezed my hand. You only think that because we were talking.

Yeah. And?

She sighed and rolled her eyes again, this time more dramatically. I was only talking to him because you WEREN'T.

I suddenly felt very silly but I didn't have a chance to say anything else because Mitchell was ambling over to the table with three steaming mugs of tea. Maria and I pulled our hands apart and watched a bit on edge as the man cautiously set down the full cups on the table and gave us each one.

"Thank you," Maria smiled warmly at him, then ogled at me, jerking her head towards Mitchell.

"Yeah, thank you," I spoke up a bit timidly. He looked up at me and smiled, so I smiled back though much less confidently than Maria. When he looked down to find his chair to sit down, I glanced at Maria and she nodded approvingly. I took in a slow, deep breath and hid myself behind the warm cream-colored mug and sipped on the piping hot tea. Maria smiled behind her cup at me and raised her eyebrows in the direction of my new roommate. I blushed deeply and tried to shake my head but she wasn't having any of it. She set down her cup and cleared her throat, catching the attention of the man. He looked over at her and set down his own cup, as if there was some rule of etiquette to follow the actions of whoever demanded your attention.

The black-haired girl folded her hands together and smiled at us. "Look at you two. Brand new roommates." She sighed happily and squeezed her eyes shut. "Bridget, what's the time?"

I fumbled around for my phone and looked a the thin white numbers of the on-screen clock. "It's just about -"

"Almost time for me to go, wow! Well, I'll be going in a few," she sipped at her tea again, "but before I live, you mentioned a... uh, George?"

"Yeah, my roommate."

"Right, right. Tell me about him." Maria noticed the looks she was getting from us both and she sigh annoyance. "I want to know the people I'm entrusting with my dear Bridget. If it turns out he's like some psychopathic crazy man or something, then I want to know exactly who to blame when they find her body."

"Maria!"

"What?"

"What? Do you think he's going to be like Ted Bundy or something/"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Ted Bundy was in America."

"He's not a psychopath, Maria. I've met him. He's really nice."

"You think he's nice. He wants you to believe that, maybe. But you don't know. He could be a werewolf or something."

Mitchell choked on his tea and did his best not to spit it out. He swallowed hard, looking pained and wiped his mouth with the back of his gloved hand. He took a moment to composed himself and I saw the pain of having burning liquid forced down the throat all over his face. He groaned softly and wiped the corners of his mouth again with his index and thumb finger.

"Are you all right?" Maria asked, concerned. "Was it something I said?"

"Oh, no, it's just..."

"Just … what?"

"A... werewolf?"

"Oh, that." Maria laughed and shook her head. "Silly, isn't it? Sorry. It's just that when I don't know anything about a person I … I kind of worry, especially if I'm leaving someone I care about with them."

"Aw, you care about me?" I teased.

"I was talking about Mitchell," she retorted matter-of-factly.

"Oh, I see how it is. Protect Mitchell from the werewolf, but not me."

Mitchell cleared his throat hard and tapped on the side of his mug. He looked fairly uncomfortable and I wondered if it was because of us talking about his roommate in front of him. I suddenly felt uncomfortable myself so I settled back into my chair and drank some of the tea.

Maria caught on to this and awkwardly lifted her cup to her lips and sipped at the steaming beverage. A moment of silence ensued but was quickly cut through with the sound of footsteps on the cement stoop outside and the door opening. Everyone perked up at that.

"Must be George," Mitchell said softly, taking another drink of tea and standing up. Maria and I exchanged glances before following Mitchell. He stopped in the arch leading into the kitchen so Maria stepped out in front of him and pulled me along with her. George came in through the front door, carrying a tote and closed the door behind him. He looked up and over at us then stopped.

"...Hello."

"Hi, George," I began, but Maria cut me off by stepping forward towards him and stretching out her hand. He took it hesitantly and shook it.

"Hello," he said again slowly, eyebrows knitting together.

"Hi," she smiled, "I'm Maria."

"Nice to meet you Mar -"

"You must be the werewolf."

George stopped shaking her hand immediately. His eyes widened and he looked up at Mitchell in horror. I looked back at him too and the dark-haired man immediately jumped up from his leaning position and shook his head.

"Did you...?" George began, the hint of betrayal in his voice.

"No, she calls everyone she doesn't know that," I blurted out, unsure of what George thought Mitchell had done or said. They all three looked at me and I blinked rapidly. "She … I guess it's her way of asking if you're a … pervert."

"A what?" he asked in disbelief. "I'm not – no, no! I'm not a pervert." He dropped Maria's hand and shifted the tote bag. "I'm … just a porter at the hospital."

"I'm sorry," Maria began, waving her hands about and shaking her head. "I don't know what I was thinking when I said that. We were just talking earlier and I guess I just wasn't thinking. Sorry."

"No, it's ..." George looked nervously at Mitchell then back to Maria. "It's fine."

He stepped past her and headed towards the kitchen, nodding at me. "Hello, Bridget." Mitchell glanced at us warily before following the bespeckled gent into the kitchen. I rushed over to Maria and grabbed her shoulders.

"Why'd you say that?"

"Sorry," she said in a harsh whisper. "I wasn't thinking."

"What if you've offended him?"

"He'd only be offended if he really was a pedo."

"Don't call him that," I muttered, "it's not nice."

"I wasn't calling him that," she replied sharply. "I was saying that the only reason he would get offended is if he was one, and you seem so sure that he's not, so..."

The sound of footsteps and angry whispers drew us out of our own private meeting and we looked over to see the two men step out of the kitchen. George pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and pulled on the edge of his shirt, looking at us. Mitchell ran a hand through his wiry hair and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"Well," Maria said after a moment of awkward silence. She smiled at me than at the boys. "I best be going. It's hardly my place to stay here... And I, uh … have stuff … to do." She hugged me gently and whispered, "Don't let them fool you. All men want one thing – whether they're pedos or werewolves or not." She pulled away and smiled brightly at me, but her eyes held some sort of warning for me. "See you at work later, kiddo."

"Yeah," I murmured. "I'll see you then."

"Nice to meet you two," she waved at the boys and headed towards the door.

"Let me get that for you," Mitchell offered, motioning towards the door.

"That's all right, I've got it."

"Oh... all right."

Maria paused at the open door to look back at me. She gave a half-smile and nodded. "Remember to call."

"I will."

She gave another cautious glance towards the two men looming by the kitchen archway before stepping out onto the stoop and closing the door behind her. I was left in the stifling silence of the house, suddenly feeling chilly. Mitchell must have felt the same way too because he rubbed his arms and trotted upstairs, talking about how he was going to finally get dressed. This left George and I alone together downstairs. I poked at the tiled floor with my foot in slight embarrassment.

George shifted on his feet and adjusted his glasses again. Finally he spoke up. "Um, you were... were you … is that your tea in there?"

"Oh, yeah, it is."

"Well.. I – I hate to interrupt your … tea time." He stepped to the side and motioned towards the kitchen. I avoided eye contact as I hurried into the kitchen, taking my seat again and holding the cup in a death grip. George tapped his foot on the floor, glancing towards the door then came into the kitchen. He fixed himself his own cup of tea and sat down where Maria had been, pushing her cup aside after asking whose seat it'd been. The silence in the kitchen seemed to be creating a type of pressure on us. It was becoming hard to concentrate and I had to stare at my cup as I held it to make sure that I didn't drop it.

To my dismay, George cleared his throat and scooted his chair closer to the table. "Um, your friend, Maria?"

"Yeah."

"That … comment about … werewolves..." He laughed slightly at this but I could tell he didn't mean it. "What did she mean by that?"

"She was just being herself. She didn't mean anything by it..."

"Well she also … mentioned pedos."

I sighed, face flushed bright red and stared into the swirling amber liquid in my cup. "Yeah, she just wanted to make sure that I wasn't moving into a house full of perverts."

"Hmm. … Well, what did you tell her?"

"I said that you were fine."

"Right, of course you did." He laughed again but looked down at his tea. His glasses steamed up but he didn't bother cleaning them off. "And Mitchell?"

"I said he was fine too. Why? Is he a pedo?"

"No," his head snapped up. "He's not."

"Oh, well you just asked what I said about him so... she wouldn't have left me here if I said that either one of you was a pedo. But I guess it doesn't really matter if you were pedos... I mean, it does, but I'm … not a child. So I hardly think that I'd be the prime target for a pedo."

George just stared at me, his glasses slowly defogging by themselves. I swallowed hard and scratched at my nose. This was becoming increasingly awkward and it was my own fault. I decided to change the subject. "So... Did you work today?"

"No, I had today off."

"Oh, so where were you?"

"I had to go to the store for a few things." He looked back at the green tote bag on the counter. I dug my nails against the smooth ceramic of my cup and wished this moment would end soon. He turned back to me and raised his eyebrows. "So... did you get all moved in, then?"

"I've got bits and pieces, yeah. Haven't unpacked or anything dramatic like that."

"Well, feel free to do that whenever you feel like it. I know it's a big task, but, um … I think you'll be fine. Mitchell and I are usually here when we're off work and Annie's here."

I gave him a puzzled look. "I thought she was just house sitting for you guys."

"Oh, oh, right, she is – was." He squeezed his eyes shut and fixed his glasses. "She was... she just... pops in sometimes, unexpectedly. It's fine, though, really. She's like, a … well she's like a sister to us."

I nodded and took another slow sip of tea. "That's good..."

"She'll … probably be like that to you after a while. If she ..." he sighed heavily and fidgeted in his chair. "If she … bugs you at all... you know, just … just let me or Mitchell know and we'll deal with it."

"No, it'll be fine," I smiled a bit, scratching at my cheek. "I've always wanted a sister."

George stared at me for a bit and the corners of his lips turned up in a smile. He nodded and let out a soft, breathy laugh. "Good," he sighed, turning down to his cup. "Good."