Joss had been on her way home. She'd been looking forward to collapsing onto the couch and zoning out to crappy TV.

Wait.

She is almost certain that there never used to be a house right there. She's pretty sure she would've noticed it. And there's that little tug in her gut that she learned the hard way not to ignore. She stares at the house for a little while, trying to decide whether or not to approach it.

"Screw it," she mutters, firing off a quick text to let her roommates know she's going to be late, and heads for the door. She looks for a doorbell, and failing that, raps sharply on the door itself.

There's no immediate answer.

Joss sighs, and then knocks again. "Hello? Anyone in? I think I'm lost?"

She looks at the handle, bites her lip and tries it. Just on the off-chance that mysterious houses that randomly appear leave their doors unlocked.

They do not.

"Hello?"

The voice is steady enough, but the tone gives away his confusion.

And there's that tug in her gut again. "Hi," she says to the door. "Uh, look, this might sound really weird, but has this house always been here? Because if it has, I've taken a seriously wrong turn somewhere."

"It hasn't. Any ideas how a house gets misplaced?"

"Well. At least my sense of direction isn't completely shot. Unfortunately I'm not exactly an expert on these matters. But...Depending on how far it got moved, I can think of a few things that might have done it. Also, I'm almost at bad as talking to doors as I am to an answering machine. Uh, that is to say: I really suck at it."

He opens the door, and stands in the doorway.

"Well, hello handsome," Joss says, smirking as she scans up and down his form. "We always have a tornado as option one, although you haven't landed on anyone, small mercies. At least...I don't think you have. I couldn't see any ruby slippers at least. Then there's a handful of creatures and beings who can move stuff, but it's all really range dependent, and unless I know where you started, I can't really make any better guesses than what I've already got, and frankly, you can stop me from babbling at any point you feel like, y'know?"

"I don't think I'm Dorothy. Maybe the Tin Man. I haven't heard of any beings or creatures that have moving houses in their portfolio, either, but maybe that's not a clue."

"I don't recognize her," says the man who suddenly materializes behind him.

Joss chuckles slightly, before starting to check options off on her fingers. "Well, some the Fae could probably manage it, and Reapers have a teleportation thing, never heard of them doing anything this big though. That isn't even really taking other magic users into account, or the various classes of demon and angel out there." She blinks at the new man, but doesn't startle. "And I don't recognise either of you, but I don't think that particularly helps us figure out how you ended up here."

"She can see me! She heard me?"

"...we have a lot to talk about."

"Uh, should I not be able to? You're stood right there? Talking? Normally people can hear and see people stood talking."

Joss takes a moment to think about that, think about how much her gut instinct appears to be doing double-time on the 'something isn't right' and then nods. "I think you might be right. May I come in? I think this will be better discussed away from potential prying ears."

"I'm not sure if you can come in." 

"He's trying to see if you're a vampire. If you're not, it's pretty easy to beat the test. Derek, stand back." 

He steps back.

"Sensible," Joss says as she takes an exaggerated step over the threshold. "Although you should know that it doesn't work so well if you're renting, in student residence or a hotel. And some vampires have found a way around that. You need a very good sense of 'this is mine' for that to work. Uh. Not that I'm a vampire. Scouts honour. I also don't normally babble about the supernatural. Normally my babble is completely benign." She visibly stops herself. "Well? Did I pass?"

"If you were the same kind of vampire as I am, you would have."

"I'll get Allison."

He dematerializes, disappearing in a mist of blue and gray that exactly match his outfit.

Another man waves from the couch, not looking up from his book.

She hums, and watches, curious, at the dissolving. She scans the room, trying to get a measure of the people living here. She doesn't bother responding the absent greeting and returns her attention to the first man. "Joss," she says, doesn't offer a surname, or her full name. Names have power if the right people get their hands on them. She slips her kitbag off her shoulder and tucks it carefully beside the door. She also doesn't offer a hand. She's never been fond of shaking people's hands. "How many people do you have living here anyway?"

"Five, on a bad day. Two, on a good one."