A/N: for any friends who stop by because I wrote this: George is a werewolf, Mitchell is a vampire (with an Irish accent, I'm just saying,) Annie is a ghost. (The strange lady in question is human, and can't see Annie.)

Missing scene to S3 "Pack"

One minute Mitchell and Annie were telling George the anything-but-secret secret that they were 'an item'. Annie was glowing and Mitchell was shy, but they were happy and excited and George was happy and excited for them and pronounced it the most normal thing he could think of for the both of them.

The next minute some strange woman emerged from their bathroom and it was suddenly apparent that Mitchell and Annie were intent on some sort of bizarre three-way with her, which kind of blew George's idea of 'normal' right out the window.

Then the next minute - well, all right, it was probably seven minutes - the strange woman was shouting and running from the house and when George looked out of his room to find out what was going on, he saw Annie. Even being a ghost she was pale, her face was twisted into what George recognized as her 'ever so close to tears' expression, and her hand shook as she pointed down the stairs, "I'll just see to the front door then," she said which was no help to George trying to figure out what was going on.

Well, absent Mitchell plus shrieking woman and nonplused Annie - George had a pretty good guess what was going on, didn't he? Whatever the three-way had begun as, it turned into a -

He almost called it, 'train wreck', but no. That was - no. No. It'd turned into a mistake, that's what it'd turned into. A mistake.

Mitchell wasn't appearing to explain or try to explain, so George went to his room. The door was open and the room was dim and Mitchell was crouched in the corner, with his back to the door and his arms wrapped around himself. He was shirtless and shivering and leaning his shoulder against the wall.

"Mitchell?"

"I didn't hurt her," Mitchell said but George wasn't sure if it was a statement or a question.

"No, no." George turned his head to the sound of Annie closing and locking the front door. "No, I don't suppose she would've run out of the house screaming quite so loudly if she'd been hurt," he offered. He didn't know if he meant it to be a quip or not. "Are you all right?"

"I can't be hurt."

And George looked at his friend, hiding - cowering - in the shadows. "That's not completely true, now, is it?"

"Annie wanted -" Mitchell said then shook his head. "I wanted -" but he stopped.

"What did Annie want?" George asked, gently. He knew Annie could be overzealous about any little thing and even though Mitchell was a hundred and however many years old, when it came to Annie he was so bloody vulnerable.

"She wanted to feel."

George almost asked what it was she wanted to feel but the question died in his throat when Mitchell looked at his bed. "If she puts her hand on another person, she can experience what they experience. Feel what they feel. She thought if I - if the other woman - she thought - she wanted to feel."

No, George wasn't going to ask anymore. That would be a bit too much like discussing his sister having sex, so, right - not happening.

"And what did you want, Mitchell? What do you want?"

"I wanted Annie to be happy. I want to not lose her."

"You can't lose Annie."

"I can."

George didn't argue that. "She'll understand."

"You didn't see her face."

Well, George had seen her face, scared and upset, but he didn't want to argue that either. "Tomorrow then. Talk to her tomorrow. She'll let you know when she's ready."

Mitchell scoffed; a wet, teary, sound. "You don't know what I did. You don't know what I've done."

That sounded like it encompassed more than just this night. George knew a lot of what Mitchell had done in the past, more than Mitchell thought he knew, and what happened just now he could guess, but he didn't say it. He sat on the floor behind Mitchell, leaning back against the wall.

"Do you remember the first time I turned, after we knew each other?" He asked. "You kept asking me what was going to happen, how it was going to happen, where it was going to happen. If I was sure I'd be all right. You drove me to the woods that night and when I woke up next morning, you were there, waiting to drive me home again. Later on you found that room in the hospital basement for me to use. You always made sure I got there on time, and you were always there next morning to let me out again. If I forget to give you my medallion for safekeeping, you remind me. Sometimes I think you worry even more than I do about it. About changing."

Mitchell scrubbed at his eyes but didn't answer and George lifted his Star of David medallion over his head.

"Here," he said, holding it out. Mitchell turned to look and reached to take it into his hand. He considered it with a confused expression.

"What - is it -? It's not tonight, is it? The full moon? I'm not - you're not - you don't have to -" He turned and made a 'get going' motion. "Go, George - you need to go."

"No, it's all right. It's not a full moon tonight. That's not why I'm giving it to you."

"Then - why?"

"To remind you it's not the only thing I'm afraid of losing."

Mitchell stared at him wide eyed for a minute then let out a huge breath of air, all at once. He turned and sat against the wall, copying George's posture. George leaned forward and snagged Mitchell's shirt and handed it to him. "Here, you'll be cold without it. Where are your gloves?"

"I don't know. In my coat pockets? I don't know." Mitchell pulled on his shirt and George reached over to Mitchell's leather jacket tossed on the chair. The fingerless gloves were in the pockets and he handed them over as well. Mitchell pulled them on immediately.

"Talk to Annie, tomorrow, Mitchell. She'll understand. Whatever happened tonight, she'll understand."

And they sat there a while longer in the shadows, until Mitchell sighed and handed back the medallion.

"I don't want to lose you either, George."

"You won't."

"I can."

"Well, not tonight, then. Tonight you're getting some rest and I'm going to watch out for you."

Mitchell started to protest but George was too tired to listen. "Just say 'thank you' and get into bed."

"Thank you," Mitchell whispered. He pulled himself into bed and dragged a blanket over himself and George stayed sitting on the floor until Mitchell was sound asleep.

The End.