Alex's warning about strangers calling my house didn't make any sense. I had not received any stranger calls or visitors before I met him, and there was no reason why I should start now. I left Alex to himself for the most part, and didn't pay him any attention (except when he decided to mow his lawn at two in the morning. Both Mrs. Brown and I were peeved with that.)

For the most part, life went on as it normally did. That was why the man sitting on my doorstep sent a slight jolt of fear through me.

I stepped from my car, and nodded toward him. He stood as I did so, and nodded back. "Good evening, ma'am."

I took a few slow steps toward the strange man, and attempted to keep some sort of safe distance between us. "Good evening." I muttered in reply, and made sure to keep my eyes directly on him. I smiled at him, hoping to seem confident, and sure of myself. Maybe this would keep be from being mugged, or dragged off to some unknown area.

He wasn't someone who I would have immediately pegged as 'scary'. He was a normal size for a man, tall and lean. His red hair had been cropped in a military cut, and he wore a red t-shirt and jeans. Overall, he seemed pleasant. The closer I came, though, the more uneasy I became. He turned his head to stare at the house next door, and I saw the right side of his face bore a giant red welt. The thing that startled me the most, however, was his eyes – the closer I came, the more I noticed their color. They were golden. Who had golden eyes? Characters in horror novels, that's who.

I regained my composure and gave him a bright smile. I was determined not to let him realize he had startled me. "May I help you with something?" I asked, and tried to keep my voice professional.

"Maybe." Scar-face had a pleasant voice. His accent was deep, and he spoke with a drawl, suggesting he had grown up somewhere in the South. He smiled at me, and nodded toward Alex's house. "I'm curious about your neighbor, ma'am. I am trying to find an old friend, you see, and I think he might live next door to you."

"Why can't you ask him yourself?"

"I don't think anyone is home. He has no phone number, and he won't answer the door."

It made my stomach uneasy to hear those words. Alex might have been a night owl, but he almost always answered the door when someone woke him up during the day. Could something have happened to him? Or could my stranger be someone he was trying to avoid? My stomach tightened into knots at the very idea.

"I can't help you, I'm sorry." I lost my smile, but I was glad to hear my voice sounded confident. "I don't talk to my neighbor much, and we've never been formally introduced. I can't even tell you his name."

"You don't?" Scar-Face grinned. "The name Alexander Webster doesn't ring a bell?"

I said nothing.

He frowned. "You don't know this man?"

I shook my head. "I told you. He doesn't come out much. I've never talked to him. I would appreciate it if you'd leave me alone, please. Before I call the cops."

That made him grin. "I would love to see you try." The tone of his voice switched, and he took a step closer to me. Every instinct in my body was screaming at me to run, and I involuntarily took a step backward. This made him chuckle, and he dropped into a small crouch.

"Michael, leave her alone."

The voice came across the yard, and it caused me to whip around suddenly. Scar-Face did as well, and his eyes narrowed. Alex stood on his front porch, arms crossed, and looking pissed off. He stepped off the porch, and paced towards us. Scar-Face, or Michael, straightened from his crouch. "Why Alex, it's good to see you again. Isn't it nice of you to come to the rescue of your neighbor who seems to know nothing about you?"

"She doesn't," Alex said in reply, and he came to a stop feet from me. "But she's an innocent, and she doesn't need to be involved in this. Leave her alone, Michael. Your fight's with me."

Michael seemed unwilling to just let me go, but he backed away. Alex made a sharp nod toward his house, and started that direction. Michael took one long glance at me, and followed Alex unwillingly. I watched them for a second before hightailing it into my house. I shut the door behind me, and locked it. I jumped when my grey cat, Missy, jumped from the table and rubbed against my legs.

My curiosity begged me to spy on Alex. I wanted to know if he was okay, and who this Michael character was. He was obviously dangerous, of that much I was sure. Instead of feeding my curiosity, however, I decided to relax with a book. I spent a few minutes making myself a cup of hot chocolate (despite the fact it was 100 degrees outside) and I found one of my favorite books.

I was halfway through chapter thirteen (my favorite chapter in the book) when my phone rang. I glanced at the caller idea, and frowned at the number. It wasn't one I recognized. I swallowed, and answered it anyway. "Hello?"

"Jane? It's Alex." He needed no other introduction, no provided one, and he immediately launched into a rant. "What were you doing talking to him? I told you to stay away from him, and anyone else that might come to your door. They're not good people, Jane. I told you to stay out of my business."

"I haven't been in your business!" I snapped feeling offended. "With the exception of the one time we spoke on your front lawn, I've left you alone. I don't even watch you now."

"You used to watch me?" Alex's voice was amused, but a hint of anger lay behind. "Don't watch me, Jane. I'm dangerous, I've told you this."

"But you refuse to tell me why."

He hesitated. "Isn't the fact that knowing me could kill you enough? That alone should be enough for anyone. Someone that is intelligent, at least."

I gritted my teeth together and chose to ignore his latest insult to my intelligence. A few deep breaths managed to calm my erratic heart beat and I spoke slowly, making sure Alex heard every word. "Mr. Webster, I have every intention of leaving you alone. You're involved in something, and frankly, that scares me. But if more people like Scar-Face are going to show up at my door step asking about you, I need to know why."

Alex hesitated for the briefest of moments. "They're looking for me."

"Really?" I asked, sarcasm laced through my voice. "I had no idea by the interrogation I was put through this afternoon that you were what he was after. I had figured that out, Alex. Why are they looking for you? Are you on the run from the cops? Are you in a gang?"

He was silent. "We'll go with the gang theory."

I hadn't been serious when I had suggested Alex was in a gang, and it threw me a curveball. I reminded myself I wanted nothing more to do with Alex and therefore couldn't ask anymore questions. I swallowed the ones that were bubbling in my throat and choked out an "okay". I don't think I sounded very convincing.

Alex sighed. "Look, Jane just . . . keep yourself as far away from my business. These people after me know things. They have connections and they're very good at what they do. Don't think for a moment that they couldn't get your phone number, your social security numbers, and other such things very personal to you."

"They're hackers?"

"Something of the sort, yes."

I rolled my eyes. "Could you not just call the cops on them?"

"I don't really want the cops looking too far into my life, Jane. You understand."

I understood. I understood that Alex's life had suddenly turned from a giant mystery to something that scared me, especially if it involved gangs. I had the common knowledge of them, of course, and enough street smarts from my father to know they were dangerous. He had made that mistake once, and it had almost cost him his life. My mother lived in fear for him most of her life, and where did that get her? No where. Just a dead husband.

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and remembered that Alex was still on the other line. "I understand." I said quietly. He made a sound on the other line, something that sounded like a small sigh and immediately told me he needed to go. I said nothing in reply, but hit the ‘end’ button on the phone. Missy, as if sensing my distress, wound around my legs in an attempt to comfort me.

“Missy,” I said to her, while staring out the widow at Alex’s house. “I think we have a very bad person living next to us.”

Author's Note: I want to make it clear to everyone that this story moves very fast. I am aware of this, and trust me, I've TRIED to drag scenes of this out and it just . . doesn't work. The chapters will get longer as the story progresses (Alex's backstory had to be cut into two chapters. It alone was ten pages long). I'm glad that some people are interested in this story - I'm very nervous about writing it! To those who are keeping theories about Alex - Keep in mind this was orignally posted in the "Supernatural" section . . . so Alex might very well be something different than what you'd expect. I will say this - He is NOT a vampire . When I finally do tell it, I think I'm going to get reactions of "OH!" and some of ". . .That's retarded." I guess we'll just have to see! My hint - look a little into Brian Page's death. The answer is in there.