AUTHOR'S NOTES: Hey you who clicked on this fic, I hope you like what I'm creating here, because I am creating and writing as I go. I also want to warn that I'm still very much an amateur at writing, and this is my fifth Spuffy fanfiction. I'm not fully sure where I'm going with this story yet, but with reviews and a little encouragement, I'm hoping I can find the ending. Please review and let me know how this first chapter is received! I hope it's enjoyed! :)
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Chapter 1
Buffy looked out her bedroom window for the fourth time. The darkness of the yard was eerie, shadows were cast from the weak light of the moon peeking out behind clouds. She saw a star here and there, but the sky was mostly hidden. Leafy trees swished playfully in the wind. Crickets should have been chirping, filling the silence.
Buffy wondered if it had scared them all away.
She let her curtain fall closed. Maybe she was just going crazy.
She'd seen the glowing eyes five times now, they moved and blinked and everything. And they were always staring up at her bedroom window, watching.
Less than a week ago, when it first occurred, Buffy thought she'd been seeing things. The following night she was closing her window when her eyes played the same trick, made her "see things" again.
Two little yellow dots, nearly slits, just staring at her from behind a tree covered by shadows in her backyard.
She knew they were eyes from the way they blinked. They were never in the exact same place every time Buffy looked out her window, half hiding behind her wispy curtains, and they moved like someone was changing position out there or shuffling their feet.
She was freaked. Something was watching her at night, and she had no idea who- er, what, it was. By the third evening, anger had risen high enough to urge her to investigate.
Once the sun came up, that is.
She looked all around the tree, even climbed it. She peeked over the high privacy fence into a neighbor's backyard and checked for anything capable of creating an amber reflection.
Nothing. No reflection, no glares, no shiny tacky lawn ornament to explain the eyes staring up at her window during the night. It couldn't be a cat either. A feline's gaze reflected light, but they didn't glow. Not the way these eyes did.
Tonight, with the wind smelling of magnolia and the cooling silence that always surrounded her home while the world slept, Buffy felt utterly alone. Alone and vulnerable, for the second time in her life.
She had half a mind to storm outside in nothing but her nightshirt and slippers, screaming, if she saw them again. They'd made her so jumpy as of late, yesterday she nearly sloshed hot coffee on her boss when she tapped Buffy on the shoulder.
It was exhausting feeling like this all the time, and she was sick of asking people to repeat themselves because she hadn't heard them the first time they'd spoken. She couldn't focus at all lately.
Buffy opened the curtain again. Nothing.
"Well what's the point if you're not even going to show, Spooky Eyes?" That was her nickname for the peeping-tom; she really did prefer it to "stalker."
Suddenly, they appeared, as if they'd just heard her. Looking up and flickering like candle flames, they stared into her bedroom window. Buffy's lips turned down as she cursed her racing heartbeat.
She was done.
Shoving her feet into the slippers beside the bed, she grabbed her pepper spray from her day purse and left the room.
Heading downstairs, floorboards creaked and the emptiness of the house felt cold. Her mother used to own this place, but now Buffy was the lone resident and she'd never realized how well-known surroundings drenched in shadow could be so unnerving until tonight.
Her feet padded silently into the kitchen. A breeze blew through the trees, making the ones outside the window by the sink rustle and dance.
Buffy swallowed. It was easy enough to reach the backdoor, but turning the knob was a different story.
*Twist, pull, peek outside. It's easy, Buffy. Relax.*
Any inner voice of reassurance died when her foot bumped a broom leaning against the wall. Her shout covered the sound of the wooden handle hitting the tile floor.
Breathing hard, hand pressed against her chest as she tried to get her pulse to calm, Buffy started to shake. God, she was on edge- And SO tired of this!
The little pepper spray bottle in her hand trembled when she yanked the door open and held it half hidden behind her leg. She stormed out onto the back deck, and the quiet, breezy night greeted her. It wrapped around her shoulders and ankles, making her shiver. It wasn't cold out but neither was it hot, and somehow, she didn't feel the least bit exposed standing there in an oversized nightshirt that barely covered her butt. She felt utterly isolated.
Yet hardly alone.
Buffy cursed when she saw the eyes, they blinked at her and suddenly seemed more threatening than ever before.
The head of them must have tilted. Buffy stared hard and direct, one fist clenched and poised on her hip. The smell of magnolia wafted around her senses, playing with adrenaline and nearly making her dizzy. She glared into the shadows, abruptly wishing for more light.
She went back inside without turning her back on the open door. She took a dainty keychain flashlight out of a drawer near the refrigerator, and found the eyes had moved when she got outside again. She switched her little flashlight on that had one powerful battery left inside, and pointed the white glow towards the tree.
It was a man. Tall, leather coat, looked like a serial killer.
Buffy bolted inside and relocked the door. She traded her little flashlight for the phone. She was about to dial 911 when a thud came from behind her.
She dropped her pepper spray, almost losing the phone, as well.
Where the bravery came from to look out the four paneled glass window of the door, Buffy couldn't say. All she could tell you was that when she did, she saw a rock lying on the deck wrapped in paper.
No sane person would open that door again.
Buffy didn't. She ran up the stairs, back to bed, clutching both phone and pepper spray against her chest until sunrise came. Then, the eyes were gone for good, along with the man they belonged to.
With dawn came sleep. Buffy didn't wake until well past one in the afternoon, and the first thing she did was walk to the kitchen and then out her backdoor.
The rock was still there. She picked it up with an angry huff and prayed the note wouldn't be written in blood or something else equally terrifying.
Nope. Written in plain old ink was the message: "I won't hurt you."
Well, that was rich. Buffy crumpled the note and threw it away. She decided to make out a police report then and there.
***
The next time Buffy saw him, it was a week later. She had the phone in her hand and one finger ready to press the number nine, when another thud came at her backdoor.
It was a rock again, smaller this time, more like a pebble and without any paper. A flower lay beside it, as if it'd been placed there before the rock was thrown.
Buffy called the cops. They arrived quickly, but Spooky Eyes had gone by then.
***
The next morning, she had plenty of curiosity to get her to go out and pick up the flower. Buffy kicked the rock off of her little deck, and sniffed the rose in her hand. It was bright red, every petal spread and soft.
She had a purely feminine urge to bring it inside and put it in water. She had a thin crystal vase that would be perfect.
Buffy went back inside and tossed the flower in the garbage to let it rot atop an empty jar of mayonnaise. She couldn't have known that only hours later, once the moon rose high in the sky, there would be another flower. This time a daisy, and there would be no rock beside it.
She had gone out to dinner with a friend from work that evening. The drinks and laughter she'd shared with Faith Lehane over their meal put Buffy in a good enough mood that walking up to her front porch hadn't wracked quite all her nerves. She almost forgot to look over her shoulder.
After reaching the kitchen, though, to go through the mail she'd left neglected on the island counter earlier in the day, her memory came rushing back.
She froze, staring at the sealed envelope holding an electric bill, and took three deep breaths before setting it down. She then walked slowly to the backdoor, and stared outside. When she saw the daisy, she looked to the tree.
The man was there, and Buffy ran immediately for the phone. She picked it up and returned to the paneled window. The eyes hadn't moved, and chills danced up and down her arms. She swallowed and then got herself a dial tone.
Before she could even press another button, the man moved. He stepped forward, into a pale stream of moonlight that rested on the grass. His face was-... It shifted.
Buffy shook her head. No. No it didn't. But his eyes weren't glowing anymore. They were hard to even see so far away.
He stepped closer again. Even with the door between them both, Buffy still felt like she might be two seconds away from getting the life choked out of her.
She dialed 911 and by the time she looked out the window again, the man was gone.
She slammed the phone down on the receiver.
***
Buffy was making coffee in order to function the next morning, and saw something new on the deck. Beside the daisy still lying there, sat an envelope.
She debated leaving it to get blown away, then realized it was held down by the flowerpot she had filled with sun loving foliage. Buffy looked closer.
She stormed outside after noticing her name was scrawled across the paper, grabbing the daisy on her way to the flowerpot. Black ink had never looked so distinct, the way the letters were written. A shiver went down the back of her neck.
Buffy tore open the message while her heart beat heavily in her chest. The fact there wasn't a message inside was enough to turn her rushing blood to ice. Nothing. Not a single thing.
He was screwing with her.
Buffy was late to work the following morning. She realized yesterday that she couldn't handle this anymore, after throwing the daisy in the trash.
***
That night, when she saw the eyes peering up into her bedroom window again, Buffy didn't even move. She stayed in her room, and didn't dare close her eyes for any longer than it would take to blink, until she finally saw him leave.
He seemed to know when sunrise was coming, for he was always gone half an hour before the first rays of morning shone across Sunnydale.
Buffy called in sick to work that day. Her boss was a sweetheart, and Buffy never took days off, so Willow Rosenberg told her to get healthy and not to even think about coming back to work until every sniffle was gone. Buffy was considering that, no matter how fictional the sniffles, to give herself about a week off.
She was frightened, the stress Spooky Eyes was throwing on her back would break her eventually. She wanted to catch him, she wanted to feel safe again, and she wanted to know why he was watching her.
Call her crazy, but Buffy had an odd feeling he really wasn't trying to... hurt her. But she wasn't stupid enough to trust such a non-cautionary gut feeling. It was simply the fact he hadn't tried to break into her house yet, but he kept coming back to stand in her backyard, even (most likely) knowing she'd called the cops on him more than once.
It didn't make sense. Sure, some crazies stalked their victims before attacking, but did it really seem right he would watch her, continue watching her even after she became aware of his presence, without trying to actually interact? He'd left two letters, one just to prove he knew her name.
She didn't recognize him, didn't think he was somebody she knew. He was much too recognizable to be easily forgotten, and Buffy was known to never forget a face. Names, she wasn't great with, but so far the stranger with weird eyes was nameless.
She wished she could figure out why, even knowing she didn't know this man, she felt like she should.
***
The hours of her day off at home ticked by quickly. She cleaned up a little, ordered a pizza for dinner, and then called her sister.
That phone conversation had gone... Well, it had gone. Familial reassurance helped steady Buffy's nerves, even when no one realized they were helping to reassure anything.
"Harris residence."
"Aren't you tired of answering the phone like that?" Buffy teased. "You two have been married for over a year now."
"Hey Buffy!" Dawn excitedly squealed. "Long time no talk, how's it going?"
"Apparently not as well as your life," she laughed. "I think every time I hear your voice, you get more and more chipper."
She giggled almost like a child. "What can I say? Married life treats me well."
"I'm glad you're happy." Buffy smiled against the speaker. "How's the hubby?"
"Good," she answered, obviously grinning on the other end of the line. "He's in the study doing something with blueprints right now, but after he's done we're going out to eat. There's this new restaurant about five miles away, and I'm dying to try it!"
"Judging by your excitement, I'm guessing Mediterranean food?" Buffy asked intuitively.
"You bet."
"Sounds very yum," she said. "I ordered a pizza not long ago, which was also high on the yummy scale."
"Ooh, with anchovies?"
"I never liked those salty things, Dawn. You did."
"They aren't that bad..."
"Yes, they are."
"Mom used to like them."
"And I used to cringe in sympathy for both of your taste buds," Buffy said. "So, how's the new job?"
"Oh, it's great!" Dawn answered brightly, flowing with the conversation change. "I love it, my boss is super nice, too. She says I'm the perfect person to be her assistant. Apparently..."
Buffy listened attentively to the update, idly noting how it reminded her all a little bit of the plot from some 80's movie she couldn't remember the name of.
It had been a couple weeks since the Summers sisters last talked. They usually tried to speak over the phone at least two or three times a week, ever since Dawn moved out and got married. She and Buffy stayed in touch even though living apart; the death of their mother was one catastrophe that had managed to bring the girls closer.
"... she loves me. She actually said that! And Xander's doing great at work right now, being the boss-man agrees with him."
"That's terrific," Buffy said. "Tell him I say congratulations when we hang up, will ya?"
"Sure thing. So how's work stuff going for you? Still Willow's favorite employee, I assume?"
Buffy laughed. "I'm actually taking a couple of sick days right now, but yeah, work is good. Willow actually said to-"
"Sick days?" Dawn interrupted, suspicion obvious in her voice. "You aren't sick, though. If you were, you wouldn't be calling me. You'd be laying in bed sleeping and downing glass after glass of OJ."
Buffy bit her lip. "You're not wrong..."
"Why are you taking off work? I agree, you deserve some time to yourself, but it isn't like you. At all."
Buffy pouted. "I'm not a workaholic."
"Yes, you are. No, you don't bring work home with you, but you have NEVER taken a vacation unless it's a national holiday, like Christmas or something. You get annoyed when you have to skip work on Memorial Day. C'mon Buffy, what's the deal here?"
She sighed. "Alright. I'm having some trouble... relaxing."
"What?"
"I..." Buffy contemplated spilling, but something stopped her. The weird guy that inhabited her backyard every night was her problem, not Dawn's. There was no need to worry her little sister. "I can't seem to get enough sleep lately," she finally said, "so I just wanted a break. I think a few days off work is what's needed."
"Oh," Dawn said. "Well, yeah, definitely. If you need more rest, you should be getting it. Sleep's important."
Buffy rolled her eyes with a grin. "I should expect that sentence coming out of the mouth of someone who sleeps fourteen hours a day."
Dawn scowled through the phone. "You're just jealous- And might I remind you that I only do that on weekends now? And you kept up damn well with those sleep logs during summertime when we were younger, remember?"
Buffy sniffed a little laugh. "Okay, okay, I'm not denying it. Know that I plan on giving you a run for your money these next couple days, too."
"It's a game now?"
"Pajama up, sis."
"You're on!"
A sudden thud from the kitchen made Buffy drop the phone. Her heart abruptly stopped, then restarted to a jackhammer beat in her chest. Swallowing hard, she grabbed the talking device off the ground and quickly answered Dawn, who kept repeating herself. "I'm here, I- I just... dropped the phone."
"Oh," the other woman breathed. "Well, don't be so clumsy, I thought you'd been bashed over the head or something."
Buffy gulped, her eyes unblinking. "What? Who would do that?"
"You and I both have seen way too many horror movies for me to even try answering that question," She said. "The list would be ten feet long!"
Buffy let out a shaky laugh, her mind suddenly spinning around and around with the fresh adrenaline pulsing through her body. She was so tired of this feeling. "Um, Dawn, I'll call ya later. Okay?"
She could practically hear her sister frowning through the receiver. "Oh... Well, okay. Xander just came out anyways, so I think we're about to go."
"Okay."
"He says hi," Dawn added, after telling her husband who she was talking to.
"T-Tell him I say hi back."
"Alright. We love you, Buffy, talk to ya later!"
"Love you too." Buffy hung up the phone, her finger frozen over the dial tone button. When she stood up the floorboards whined quietly beneath her bare feet. Her knees practically wobbled as she walked through the dining room. Entering the kitchen, she could feel her heart hitting the inside of her chest, pounding against it like a sledgehammer. She stopped dead when another sound came from outside.
That was a knock.
She gulped again and quickly dialed 911. A hand suddenly appeared in the window and Buffy stopped dead. She saw his face, and she dropped the phone again. Her lungs seized. The lights in the room all blinked out of her vision as her eyes zeroed in on the blue ones looking inside.
They recognized her. Buffy didn't notice her call had hung up until she grabbed the phone off the floor.
She went to redial when he knocked once more. Calmly, not loud, his stare penetrating and expectant. She ignored the shuddering in her body and hung up the phone. "Get the hell out of here!"
He didn't flinch. Buffy held up the device in her hands. "I'm calling the cops!"
Nothing. No startling response whatsoever, except for an eye roll, though Buffy didn't catch it as she was too busy pressing buttons.
A foreign voice resounded throughout her kitchen, from outside, its source stared at her with a hand pressed up to glass. The calm but insistent look on his face had Buffy hanging up again, and she didn't understand why. She chewed on her bottom lip, almost making it bleed for it was already raw.
"You can talk to me through the door if you want, Buffy," the man said.
The sound of her name was like a shock to her heart, and it lit up every feeling of anger conjured over these last couple weeks and sent them through her nervous system like a bullet.
She stormed up to the backdoor, and stood a foot back from the glass. Her forehead wrinkled and her hand clenched around the phone. "How do you know my name?" she practically growled.
"Read your mail," he answered with a casual shrug.
She exhaled sharply before letting her fear get the better of her. "How did you find me?!" she yelled, "WHY are you stalking me?!"
"I'm not stalking you."
She took note of the British accent, chills running down her neck and arms. "You've been watching me."
"Yeah." He titled his head very slightly, one dark eyebrow flicking up. "And there's no intent to harm, pet."
She moved forward fast and slammed her hand against the glass. "You're insane," she ground out. "Get off my property, get out of my life, and leave me alone!"
He didn't react to her wrath. He simply looked at her, still as a rock, his eyes shimmering in the dim light of the moon. Their blue color was deep and bright at the same time, they looked like little gems. So vibrant. The color reminded Buffy of the ocean, or a robin's egg. They fairly sparkled as she drew closer.
The door opened noiselessly. Buffy's fingers brushed against the wood as she moved outside. Magnolias reached her senses, she breathed in, out, barely noticing the cool wind that hit her cheeks.
Suddenly, she was flying. Off the deck, her ribs surrounded by leather encased arms, her back hit a tree, and that's when she woke up.
Gasping and then screaming, she should have expected the hand over her mouth. Hers started to sweat as she brought her knee up, but he quickly grabbed it, squeezed, and pinned her immobile with the rest of his body. She struggled against him. Biting didn't work, neither did trying to hit and claw his face.
She failed. She failed miserably and felt the oxygen in her blood fizzle away. His lips found her ear, his breath made her shiver. Never more had Buffy wanted to kill somebody.
Low and direct, strong, his voice fluttered by her ear. "I'm not going to hurt you." He locked eyes with her. "I promise."
It was a vow. The man didn't growl or grunt the words, didn't flippantly throw them out there, didn't scream. He vowed not to hurt her.
Buffy didn't believe him for a second. However, on the off chance that she could avoid decorating the tree trunk with her own blood if she stopped fighting the lunatic, she did quit moving.
She noticed the bright color of his eyes again. "You'll understand," he said, with his deep accent that made her want to run far away so she'd never hear it again. "Watch me."
She watched. With her pulse nearly jumping through the skin on her neck, the man's face crumpled into wrinkles and his brow protruded. Buffy froze as the color of light sapphire changed to yellow gold.
She didn't even try and scream. He opened his mouth and she saw jagged teeth. Something... She abruptly realized that something wasn't right. Not because of the obvious. This was a monster in front of her, the kind you see in movies and talk about around a campfire, but her safety was no longer at risk. He was inhuman, and Buffy didn't feel threatened anymore.
That was the something that wasn't right. She didn't feel like her life was in danger, not anymore. She felt utterly confused and wary, even a little scared still, but her limbs had stopped shaking. Her heartbeat returned to its normal beat. He pulled his hand away, and then his face fell back into place, human eyes and blunt front teeth, a flat forehead. "I knew it..." he breathed, "I knew that'd work."
She wanted to ask what the hell he was talking about and why he seemed beyond relieved, but her nerves were too fried. She recognized him. It was the first time she'd seen this man. Buffy could never recall being so close to his lips, his blue eyes were still foreign to her, and his sharp jaw and cheeks weren't at all familiar. Yet somehow, she recognized him. It was in a way she couldn't understand.
"The demon," he mumbled to her, and inanely, she listened. "It recognizes you, so does the... man."
The understanding with which he spoke, like he was actually trying to comfort her, was what probably pushed Buffy to speak. "Who are you?"
Disappointment and realization fell across his face. Then, his features hardened. Buffy tensed as he framed her cheek with his hand. "Your mate."
She looked at him like he was crazy. Because surely, the emotions running through her couldn't be sensible, and neither could this monster. That word shouldn't have struck anything in her, yet it had and now something was ringing like a gong. He was hypnotizing her or messing with her head. He wasn't human, she must be in a nightmare.
She shoved him back and ran for the house. He let her go. Frantically, she locked the door once she got inside and left him behind. He stood there for a couple seconds more, in the darkness of the magnolia, but soon left again, as quickly and silently as the wind.
Buffy put her hand to her forehead and slowly dropped to the floor, her back sliding down the wood of the door.
What had just happened? Who was he- WHAT was he?! Why was he trying to talk to her? What on earth did he mean by "mate"? Why did she feel like she suddenly knew him? Why did she even have an inkling?
Buffy spent a lot of time losing sleep that night, and she never called the cops again.
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END NOTES: Please review! Thanks for taking the time to read!
squawks
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!
05/18/17 04:16 am
pj! I remember wishing one of your stories would be finished seriously about a decade ago. Amazing. I just tried an old password I used to use and amazingly got in too. Memories!
pj
03/20/17 01:20 am
10 yrs later, i finally rem my username and password. Pari, you rock. Hope you are well.
Rabbit_moon1
12/23/16 01:12 pm
I donate every month. Please donate to keep this site up!
AudryDaluz1
10/06/16 08:34 am
Great post.
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:45 pm
And anyone else who loves this site, it's worth mentioning there's a nifty little "Donate" option just below the shout box here! ;)
Chrissel
08/31/16 03:43 pm
Just wanted to take a moment to thank Pari and all the mods for maintaining such a great site!