AN: This is an AU. It also focuses around the theme of paranormal activity and ghosts, so if you don't like spooky stuff, I advise caution for reading.

Rating M for said spooky stuff, adult themes and some smut in later chapters.

Gravel crackled and crunched as dirt stained tyres rolled over it, the navy blue sedan slowing as it turned into the open gate and began up the dirt driveway. The property itself was surrounded by a cast iron fence that had seen better days, black paint rusting and flaking off only to be gripped in a fierce embrace by sparse vines that clambered up it's height.

A typical FOR SALE sign lingered at the entrance, a little off kilter as though someone had given it one swift kick in defiance.

The sedan slowed as it came to the top of the driveway, eventually coming to a complete stop a few metres away from a red hatchback- this year's model- shiny and new in stark contrast to the towering, mansion-esque house behind it.

Opening the passenger door, a redhead with soft, falling curls stepped out, gravel and stray twigs cracking beneath the heel of her boots. A smile was already working her way onto her face as she pushed the car door closed, her eyes trailing over the house in awe and wonderment.

"It's amazing," she breathed, resting her hands on her hips. She didn't even bother to look over as the driver got out of the car, circling around to her side.

The brunette gazed at the red-head for a few moments before following her gaze towards the house. It had a verandah, from which hung a wooden swing that looked as though it could snap in two if so much as a bug landed on it. Her eyes drifted up further to the second story and what appeared to be several rooms looking down on them, their contents hidden behind thick lace curtains.

Even further up was an attic, a single large, circular window stained with decades worth of dust peering down at them like an eye. She shivered, though there was no cool breeze to speak of despite it being early in Fall.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Chlo," the brunette spoke in a dead pan voice, noting the peeling paint and what she believed was a hole in the roof tiles that would need to be repaired before the rains came.

Chloe bumped into her wife gently with her hip, the smile still finding a place on her lips despite the other woman's reservations about the property.

"Oh come on, this place is gorgeous AND it's in our budget with plenty to spare."

Beca rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest as she turned to meet Chloe's gaze. "That's because we'll end up spending just as much fixing up this place. It seriously looks like it could fall over at the slightest touch, even from me."

Rolling her eyes, Chloe let her hands fall from her hips in a dramatic motion, opening her mouth to form a counter argument when a loud creak came from the front of the house. The large wooden door jolted inwards, causing both women to jump back in surprise, and a little bit of fear.

Out of the darkness inside, a tall blonde dressed in an immaculate pink blazer with a matching business skirt stepped out. Her brow furrowed as she peered at the door before noticing the two women standing at the foot of the front steps. A beaming smile overtook her face as she motioned to the hinges.

"Sorry, didn't mean to frighten you. Always takes a little bit of force to move this thing," she stepped across the porch, her black high heels clacking on the pine wood, extending her hand.

Chloe shot Beca a look of absolute joy, her cheeks dimpling, and the brunette as always found herself catching her contagious happiness; she shook her head and let her lips curl into a smile, her nerves calming. The two stepped up onto the porch, shaking hands in turn.

"I'm Aubrey Posen, the realtor. You must be the Mitchells?"

Beca's eyes widened as the blonde shook her tiny hand with such strength that she found herself retracting her fingers as quickly as she could.

"Wow, that's some grip you've got there," she stated, flexing her fingers and ignoring the gentle tsk'ing coming from Chloe's mouth.

"Yes we're the Mitchells," the red-head replied with a bright smile, tucking a few curls behind her ear and ignoring the way her lover had stuck her hand into her jacket pocket and was doing her best to act like a sulking child. "I hope we're not too late?"

Aubrey let out a soft chuckle, turning to the side and motioning with her arm for the two to make their way into the house.

"Your timing is perfect actually, just finished my lunch," another warm laugh. "Come on in."

Chloe intertwined her fingers with Beca's, pulling the other woman through the threshold of the house with a gentle tug. The brunette barely argued, even after all these years the simplest of affections sent butterflies through her chest.

It opened into a wide hallway with a set of stairs, covered with thinned and dirt stained carpet leading up to the second floor. An intricately carved wooden bannister looked out onto the landing, and the hallway itself also opened on the right into a large living area. To the left was what appeared to be a dining room.

Stepping through into the dining area, Chloe's face returned to one of wonder, leading them through the dining and into the adjoining kitchen.

Beca instantly noticed the thick layer of dust coating the counter island in the middle of the kitchen, leaning over and taking two fingers to swipe across the surface; it revealed that underneath lay cream coloured tiles marred with many tiny hairline cracks.

"It's going to cost in the thousands just to rip out all this damaged tiling, I hope you realise babe," Beca said, rubbing the dust between her fingertips and peering over at the red-head. Chloe's smile dropped, the brightness from her eyes dimming as she met her gaze.

Sensing the brunette's unease about the property, Aubrey stepped over and motioned towards the tiles, standing tall with a small smile on her face.

"These tiles are vintage, they've been in this property since it was built in the 1800's. Nothing a little bit of fresh tiling grout won't do to bring out their true beauty."

Chloe squeezed her wife's hand, the smile returning, and the brunette found herself just a little bit thankful to see that joy coming back. She inhaled softly, giving a small nod in Chloe's direction and wiping the dust onto her jeans.

"You're right, totally for preserving the vintage look," Beca teased, letting out a soft laugh as she saw the sparkle return to those gorgeous blue eyes.

Aubrey smiled proudly, motioning with her hand for the couple to follow her to the back door, where the back porch lead out into a sprawling backyard. The two women stepped out, and for a moment Beca herself was in amazement of the size of the property.

She wasn't great with maths, but she figured it could take several minutes to walk from the back door to where the local areas forestation formed a border at it's end. There was what appeared to be a garage, though it was a little lopsided and some of the corrugated iron on it's roof was rusting into holes that meant it was probably not water proof.

"Honey," Chloe breathed, pulling herself closer and wrapping both arms around Beca's bicep. "It's beautiful, and so huge! The kids will have plenty of room to run and play, we could even build them their own tree house!"

Aubrey cooed audibly, holding her business binder a little closer to her chest.

"Ohh, you have children?"

Nodding exuberantly, Chloe smiled at the realtor.

"They're at school right now," she squeezed Beca's bicep a little tighter, earning a soft grunt from the brunette. "There's Lilly, she's twelve, and Jacob, he's seven."

"Oh, well I think they're just going to love it here. The house has five bedrooms so they won't have to share, not like they would in the big city," Aubrey replied matter of factly, and Beca found herself finally able to loosen her arm from her wife's steely grip as she ducked back inside.

Puffing out her cheeks, Beca let out a long breath, taking purposefully slow, swaggering steps through the kitchen until she was able to find her way back to the hallway. Turning down it, she reached for the very first door she spotted- underneath the staircase.

Her fingers gripped around the brass knob, the cold metal working it's way up her arm and making her shake her shoulders as though a ghost had passed through her body. Furrowing her brow, she turned the knob- only to find that it was locked. She jiggled it a few more times, her bottom lip jutting out in protest.

Sighing in defeat, she stepped away from the door. "Figures," she stated, her voice tinged with annoyance.

Turning away, she continued down the hall and attempted to open the next door she found. This time it opened; it revealed a vintage bathroom with a small window overlooking the backyard- not that she was tall enough to see through it- she leant up on her tippy toes but to no avail.

There was a large bathtub, the kind with the little feet that looked like lions' paws. She noted that said bathtub appeared to be larger than usual, and of course the first thought that popped into her mind was the image of herself with Chloe laying in her arms, surrounded by bubbles and flickering candles.

She shook her head, cocking an eyebrow and laughing dryly.

"Head out of the gutter Mitchell, it's not a done deal yet."

Satisfied she had taken in all the bathroom had to offer she turned to leave the room, deciding to make her way upstairs to check out what condition the bedrooms were in. As she stepped into the hallway however, there was a soft sound; dry hinges creaked ever so slowly, followed by a whining sound as the door she previously tried to open was now ajar.

At first she didn't know what to think of it, her lips pursing into a frown. Usually this would be the part in the movie where she would probably be shouting at the screen for the woman to run for her life and take her family with her, 'get the hell out of dodge'. However this wasn't a movie, this was real life, and Beca being Beca, logic won out.

It was an old house after all, perhaps the door had just been jammed when she tried to open it but had loosened up and a draft had blown it open after she left. Or, perhaps the realtor and Chloe had come through while she was in the bathroom and unlocked it, even though her brain told her that was stupid and that she definitely would have heard them.

Still, her feet moved closer; short, shuffling steps. She licked her lips, her hand extending slowly, cautiously, until she finally caught the knob in her grip and pulled the door open. However she instantly tugged her hand back when the frosty cold of the brass knob sent a tingling shock through her fingers.

Looking her hand over to make sure it wasn't burnt or blistered, she peered through the doorway and down the stairs in the basement. The first few steps were visible but the rest were shrouded in darkness, so out of caution she made sure to reach out for the railing and keep a firm grip on it at all times.

Slowly she descended, one step at a time. The wooden slats creaked and groaned in defiance with every move she made, only silencing once her boots came into contact with the concrete floor of the basement. Beca squinted, just able to make out the light switch, reaching out and flicking it on.

The light offered by the overhead fluorescent bulb wasn't too much of an improvement; it hummed softly and faded in and out, but she supposed it was enough to take a look around.

There was dust. A lot of it. It coated every surface in the basement, especially the few pieces of furniture scattered about that must have been left behind by the previous owners. There was a wooden high-backed chair that sat abandoned in one corner, facing the dull grey brick that the walls were lined with.

"Weird," she muttered to herself, shaking her head and making her way through to where an open doorway lead into another room, this one just barely illuminated through its entrance. She curled her hand around the door jamb, leaning in and squinting through the shadows.

At first she thought she could make something out, something... moving? Well, it was an old house, for all she knew it could have a raccoon infestation or a family of stray cats. The sound of shuffling accompanied the movement, and she felt the pulse in her chest begin to thump faster against her ribcage.

Swallowing to try and ease the dryness in her throat, she took another step forward to try and make out what it was that she was seeing, when all of a sudden a figure as pale as porcelain lunged at her from the darkness. She didn't even realise she was crying out in horror until her throat ached in protest as the figure and her both toppled to the floor.