Check it out everyone! Another one-shot from me in less than a week :P

Disclaimer: I do not own Big Time Rush, Ghost Busters, or anything that you guys might recognize in this.

Warnings: Strong language, alleged ghost, innuendos, mild sexual content, a certain character is slightly (a lot) OOC, and seances.

So, this was an idea I originally had for a Halloween one-shot, but I couldn't get the idea together in time. But about the first third of this has been sitting around on my computer since October, and I decided to go ahead and post it for the Semi Official BTR One Shot Day. :) Not much I can say about it, so I'm just going to say, I hope you all enjoy it :)

Katie's POV

It wasn't my choice to end up in James' bed.

It really wasn't.

I mean, how is it your choice when you're scared right into crawling into someone else's bed? That's what I thought. It's not. I didn't want to. Not in the least. But the ghost made me.

It was dark and stormy outside, and it was just James and me alone in the apartment. Kendall, Logan, and Carlos were on a group vacation – Gustavo's suggestion, since they had been fighting so often lately, and they needed male bonding time apparently –, and my mom…well…ever since she got herself a boyfriend, we don't really ask where she goes anymore. It's better for our sanity if we don't know she's at her boyfriend's house, in his bed, all. Night. Long.

So, when the ghost woke me up at 2AM with the wind rushing past my window, it's no surprise that I reacted the way I did.

The furniture was moving. I knew it was, I could see my desk chair slowly rocking back and forth, as if someone was sitting in it.

I blinked sleepily. What the hell was my chair doing moving with no one in it? Did it not get the memo that it wasn't alive?

The chair kept creaking, waking me up a little more. I ran my fingers through my messed up hair, extremely confused. Since when did I wake up to my chair moving? This made no sense whatsoever.

With a final, echoing squeak, the chair stopped moving, and I relaxed against my pillows. Whew. It must have been the wind.

And then my closet door swung open.

I was fully awake by now, and completely alert. I flashed back to a conversation I had had with Carlos a week ago when he had been insisting that 2J was haunted, but I hadn't believed him. Let's face it, who would? But it occurred to me in that moment that he had mentioned a moving chair and his closet door opening and closing. And hadn't he said something about dresser drawers…?

Right on cue, my closet door slammed shut, causing me to jump and let out a tiny scream. Before I could even begin to compose myself, my dresser drawers began to open and close.

Oh my God.

Carlos had set the ghost of 2J on me!

With a scream, I pushed the covers off my body and went running out of my room. Sounding like I was doing my best opera singer impression, I dashed into James' room, slamming and locking the door behind me. Ghosts couldn't get in through locked doors, could they?

Just to be on the safe side, I barricaded the door with his chair.

"Katie?" James said sleepily from his bed. "Why did you lock yourself in my room?"

I whimpered and hurried over to him, crawling into bed with him.

"Ummm…" was his response.

I snuggled up to him and buried my face in his bare chest. Oooh…he was nice and warm and hard and big and strong and could totally take a ghost.

"Protect me," I mumbled to him. "It's after me…You'll protect me, right?"

"Depends on if I can hit what's after you."

"It's a ghost."

He tried to roll over, but I clung to him. "Yeah, I can't hit that. You're on your own. Go back to your own room, Katie."

"James, I'm serious! There's a ghost in my room! It was sitting in my chair and opening my closet and going through my drawers!"

"And you're sure it wasn't solid? Maybe Bitters snuck in to reclaim the money he lost to you last week."

I pouted and sat up, crossing my arms. "Hey, he knew the stakes. It was poker, duh. You don't bet more than you're willing to lose. And he never wins, especially when he's up against me. He should know this by now."

James chuckled. "Katie, no one ever wins when they're playing you. It's why if I ever play with you, I won't be betting with money."

I frowned as I laid back down. "What would you be betting with?"

"Clothes," was his response as he finally managed to roll over, away from me.

My cheeks heated up immediately. James…strip poker…shirtless James…naked James…Yum.

"Of course," he continued on, "that can't happen until you're twenty-one. Your mom would kill me."

I grinned a little. "So you want to get naked with me?"

"I didn't say that. I just know you'd con me out of all I have. And since I look good naked…"

I bit my lip. "What if something happened and I lost to you?"

He snorted. "Yeah, right, like that would ever happen. I'm not exactly good at gambling. So you won't have to worry about exposing yourself."

"I wouldn't be exposing myself…"

"You'd be getting naked. Anyway, why are we even still talking about this? You're only eighteen, and I don't play poker."

"I'm legal," I said huffily. "I can vote and have sex and everything."

James chuckled. "You can't drink."

"Yeah…well…who wants to get drunk and have to deal with the hangover?"

"Touché."

I closed my eyes, pressing my body into his.

There was a long, silent pause, and then James said, "So, basically you got Carlos' ghost?"

"Yes."

"Are you sure it wasn't just your imagination getting the better of you?"

"I'm positive." I pushed closer to him, feeling the hard muscles of his bare back against the front of my body. Oooh…I could definitely get used to this.

James sighed, and suddenly rolled over. His chest was pressed up against mine, our stomachs against each other…other parts against each other…I fought back a moan.

What? It's not my fault. I'm eighteen, I live with a guy who looks like a Greek god, I happen to have a huge crush on said guy, and my hormones go a little crazy sometimes. I can't help it; it's natural. Besides, James sleeps in only his boxers, so it's not like there was a lot left to the imagination.

James looked slightly startled, but he quickly got his facial expressions under control. "And you're sure you weren't just having a nightmare?"

"I'm sure." I ran my hands down his chest to his abs, enjoying the feeling of rippling muscles underneath my fingertips.

"What are you doing?" he asked me.

"Comforting myself."

"Why?"

"Because the ghost freaked me out."

"Uh huh…Well, keep your hands to yourself. I'm going back to sleep."

Note to self: Never go to James for counseling. He'd have me trying to jump out a sixth story window within thirty seconds.

Before either of us could drift off, however, there was a crash from the living room.

My eyes widened, and both James and I sat up.

"The ghost!" I mouthed.

He shook his head and got out of bed, creeping towards his door. There was a few seconds of silence as he walked, and then a soft thud and a loud "Ow! Fuck! Katie!"

I twisted the sheet beneath my fingers. "Yeah…?"

"Why the hell is my chair in front of the door?!"

"The ghost moved it."

The room may have been dark, but I still managed to see the glare James gave me before scooting his chair out of the way, unlocking his door, and slipping into the living room.

Biting my lip, I weighed the pros and cons of letting James investigate the living room by himself.

Pro: I might survive.

Con: James might die.

Pro: I'd get to stay in a nice warm bed that smelled like James.

Con: I wouldn't get to see James moving around in just his boxers.

That last one was more than enough to send me scrambling out of bed and out the door.

When I got into the living room, I found James kneeling beside a broken vase. A strong breeze was coming in through an open window, and I felt the light splatter of rain. James looked up at me as I approached him.

"Careful," he warned, "there's sharp pieces of ceramic all over the floor. Don't cut yourself."

"Okay, thanks."

He nodded and straightened up, going over to the open window and closing it. "The wind must have knocked the vase over."

"Um…but…"

"Why was the window open? Did you open it earlier?" he asked me.

I shook my head. "No, I didn't."

His eyes widened slightly. "Are you sure?"

"James, yes, I'm sure!"

He groaned. "Crap."

"It was the – "

"Don't say the G word!"

"What? G-spot? G-string?"

He shot me a nasty look. "I'm going back to bed. We'll get this cleaned up in the morning." He headed back to his room.

"James! Wait for me!" I cried, rushing after him. I didn't want to be alone with the ghost. Not again.

The rest of the night passed quietly and relatively peacefully. However, I was awoken the next morning to the distant sound of thunder.

I groaned. I hate thunder storms.

At some point during the night, James and I had ended up spooning, with my back to him and his arms around me. It was nice, and felt comforting.

I smiled a little as I felt him shift in his sleep. He was adorable.

He sighed, pushing closer to me, and my eyes widened slightly. Something very hard was poking me in the back…and I had a feeling I knew exactly what it was…

I smirked a little. I knew it was probably just normal morning wood, but that didn't mean that I couldn't have some fun with it…I pushed my hips back towards him, earning a soft moan from him. My smirk widened, and I did it again.

The next thing I knew, he was pulling back. "Katie? What the fuck?!"

Oh. He had woken up. My bad.

"Don't say what the fuck to me. You're the one with morning wood!"

"It's a natural reaction! You were pushing your ass against me!"

"I would never do something like that! It's not my fault you can't keep your hips still when you have a boner."

"You were molesting me!"

"I was not. To molest someone you have to touch them, and I wasn't."

"Uh, my dick begs to differ!"

"Prove it."

"Prove what?!"

"Prove that I was touching you."

"It's too early for this," he groaned, and pushed the covers back, getting up. "Don't look at me. Cover your eyes."

I did so, scowling into my hands as he walked out of his room. A moment later, I heard the bathroom door close. Well, damn. There went my morning show. And morning sex. And after-morning-sex-breakfast.

I barely saw James the rest of the morning, and by the afternoon, he was downstairs, doing whatever it is he does in the lobby of the Palmwoods.

I hung out in 2J, watching TV, and thinking about what would have been if James had woken up on the right side of the bed – figuratively speaking, of course.

It was almost five by the time James walked into the apartment. "I invited someone over for this evening," he told me.

"Great…If it's some new slut, tell her to spread her legs in someone else's apartment. I'm not leaving."

"You don't have to. The slut is Jett Stetson."

"Ew. You're not, like, paying him for it, are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"Well, I know word is he's bi, and if you're bi-curious, then that's fine, but really, you don't need to pay to get your rocks off. I mean, I'm sure he'd do it for free. Or hey, you could even ask Logan or Carlos, they seem awfully touchy lately."

James stared at me. "You think I invited Jett up here to – I'm not taking it in the ass!"

"Well, good for you. Stick to your principles. Just make sure you use a condom; you don't know where he's been."

"I'm not having sex with Jett Stetson! And I didn't know he was bi!"

"Dude, seriously, don't go all homophobic on me now."

James grabbed a nearby book and began banging his head against it.

"Wait, don't tell me you're a secret masochist."

"Katie."

"Yes?"

"I didn't invite Jett up here to sleep with him, I'm not homophobic, and I'm not a secret masochist. I invited Jett up here because he's going to get rid of the ghost."

"You said there wasn't a ghost," I reminded him.

"I'm not taking any chances."

"So you admit that there might be a ghost."

"Ehhh…"

"That there's a chance."

"A very slim chance."

"But still a chance, nonetheless."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm done here. Jett will be up here within the next half hour."

"Hey, wait a sec! You're not going to leave me here with him, are you?"

He flashed me a grin. "Now, now, Katie, don't go all homophobic on me." He strutted into his room, and I growled. Stupid, hot, smartass guys.

I threw the TV remote aside and jumped to my feet, marching straight into his room.

"I've really got to start locking my door," James muttered as I barged in.

"If you did that, I wouldn't be able to get in anymore."

"That's the point."

I ignored the insult and instead paused to take in the fact that he was shirtless. Oh, yum.

Stupid hormones. They were kicking into high gear, just begging to get out. Me being near a shirtless James was like setting a recovering gambler in a Las Vegas casino.

"So, why are you in my room again?" James asked me.

"Oh…um…right." Not staring, not staring, not staring…! "You can't leave me along with Jett. What if he tries something?"

"I never said I was going to leave you alone with him, Katie. I'm going to be here to make sure that séance goes okay and that nothing illegal or fire-hazardous happens."

"Séance…?"

"Yeah. What'd you think was going to happen? He was going to bust in here with an ectno-cleaner?"

"I could only hope…"

James merely grinned at me.

"You hired Jett Stetson to hold a séance in our living room?"

James just shrugged and grinned more widely.

I groaned. "I'm done talking to you."

"Don't let the ghost smack your ass on the way out."

I flipped him off and stalked out to the living room. Not five seconds later, there was a knock on the door. I hesitantly opened it and found myself face to face with none other than Mr. Ghost Buster himself.

"Hello, Katie," he chirped as he sauntered into the apartment without even waiting for me to invite him in. "I hear you're having some problems with a ghost in your bedroom."

"You could say that…"

"Don't you worry, by the time I'm through with this place, the ghost will be gone and will never come back."

Hopefully the same was true for Jett.

Jett sniffed around the place, and I frowned slightly.

"Um…did you change religions?"

He blinked at me. "No, why?"

"Then how come you're wearing a turban?"

He was, too. It was this huge, gaudy, purple silk thing that looked like it could've been a scarf on one of its better days. Apparently it, like me, was having sort of a bad day. But it, unlike me, had gotten stuck wrapped around Jett Stetson's head. I immediately felt bad for it. It would have to go into therapy, probably, after listening to Jett's thoughts and being in such close contact with his hair, which I was pretty sure was radioactive anyway.

"It's my official, professional séancer uniform. See these robes?"

Oh, dear Lord, he looked like he was trying to be an Arabian prince, straight out of a black and white movie. And séancer?

"Sadly…"

"I got them at Margareta's Mystic Mayhem store."

"Margareta's Mystic Mayhem?" I repeated back to him.

"That's what I said! Margareta's Mystic Mayhem!"

"Try saying that one five times fast," I suggested as I slowly backed away towards James' room. It was the only place in this entire apartment that had even the vaguest touch of sanity. Plus, he might still have his shirt off.

I scrambled into James' room as Jett began to say Margareta's Mystic Mayhem as fast as he could. I heard him get tongue-tied on the second try.

I slammed James' door shut and locked it, before leaning back against it. James stared at me, a button up shirt hanging open from his shoulders.

There was a long pause, and then James asked, "Why is Jett saying Margareta's Mystic Mayhem five times fast?"

"Because he's an idiot," I retorted, crossing my arms over my chest. "And he's dressed like a professional séancer."

"I'm sorry?"

"Go take a look."

"Séancer?"

"That's what he calls it. Not medium. Not mediator. Séancer."

James paused, running his tongue over his gums as he thought all this over, before crossing the room, unlocking the door, and throwing it open.

I followed him back out to the living room, looking longingly behind me at the safety and comfort of his bedroom.

James blinked at Jett. "Why are you wearing a turban and robes?"

"Because I'm a professional séancer. You knew this – it's why you asked me to get rid of the ghost."

"Actually, I was asking Lucy if she knew any way to get rid of an alleged ghost, and you came over, volunteered yourself, and informed me that in order to get rid of the ghost, we needed to hold a séance."

"Right. You asked me."

James began to massage his temples.

"You have a headache?" Jett asked.

"I'm getting one…"

"I know this really great cure – "

"I'm fine, I'll take a couple of pain killers."

"But I give great head rubs."

"Seriously, I'm cool. I don't need a head rub."

"Boo." Jett looked James up and down. "Your shirt's still unbuttoned."

James immediately began to fumble with the buttons, trying to get it closed.

"Not that I mind. You should walk around like that all the time."

James' eyes widened, and he went running for the bathroom. I wasn't sure if he was making a break of the pain killers or for the toilet – he looked a little green.

Jett turned back to me. "Something I said?"

"You could say that…Anyway, since you're in charge of leading the séance, why don't you set everything up in here?"

"Oh, no, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Because the ghost is in your bedroom, so that's where we need to hold the séance."

"We're not holding a fucking séance in my bedroom!"

"Why? Afraid of what the ghost might tell us?"

I stared at him. "Where're the ghost busters when you need them?"

Jett shrugged in answer.

I groaned and stomped to the bathroom. James had just swallowed a couple of pills and was washing them down with tap water.

"Why the hell does Jett want to hold the séance in my bedroom?!" I whisper-yelled.

"Because he's an idiot?"

"I can't believe you're letting him do this!"

"Relax, it's not going to be a big deal. He'll set stuff up, we'll go through a five minute séance, we'll kick him out, problem solved."

"No, the problem will not be solved, because the ghost will still be haunting my room, and even worse, Jett will have been in it! He might touch my stuff!"

"Hey, you heard Jett. He knows what he's doing. He's a professional séancer after all."

I placed my hands on my hips and glared at James. "I know you think this is fucking hilarious. But it's not! The ghost is real, it's in my room, I'm pretty sure it was watching me while I was getting dressed – "

"Oh, so you have a perverted ghost?"

" – and I want it gone!" I finished with a wail.

"And it will be. And if it's not, you can sleep in my room, in my bed, until we can figure out how to get rid of it."

I blinked at James. "You'd let me do that?"

He nodded. "In a heartbeat."

"Awww! You're so sweet!" I launched myself at him, throwing my arms around him, and he hugged me back.

"I'm not sure sweet is the right word, but thanks all the same."

I kissed his cheek, and he blushed lightly.

"Hey, if you two are done making out in there, I've got the candles set up!" Jett called through the bathroom door.

James' eyes widened. "Candles? Like, with flames?"

"Yes. Black candles. I set them up around Katie's room."

"I have perfume in my room!" I cried. "And it's flammable!"

"Hopefully the candles won't get knocked over," Jett said mildly.

James and I pushed back through the door, almost running into Jett.

"Your shirt still isn't buttoned," he informed James.

"Button it, otherwise he might pass out in the middle of the séance, knock over the candles, and my room will go up in flames," I advised James.

He quickly got his shirt buttoned up the rest of the way, and we made our way into my room.

We both immediately began coughing as we were hit with the strong scent of incense. My curtains had been drawn, and the lights were off, allowing the candles to glow brightly in the dark. Jett had draped silk blankets over my mirrors, and had laid another blanket out in the middle of the floor. More candles were set up in holders around it.

James and I eyed the candles, before slowly sitting down, keeping as far away from the flames as we could.

"Don't suppose you have a fire extinguisher in your room," he muttered to me.

"Don't suppose you have one in your jeans."

He grinned. "I do, but it only works when it's stroked."

"Keep it in your jeans – we don't need Jett getting all excited."

"What about you? Would you get excited?"

I flushed slightly. "None of your business."

"Okay, kids, break up the flirting!" Jett clapped his hands together. He plopped down between James and me. "Now, we're all going to hold hands. Do not break the circle."

James made a face as Jett grabbed his hand, and I bit my tongue as Jett wound his fingers through mine. I took James' hand, and relaxed slightly.

"Now, close your eyes," he instructed us. We obeyed. In a deep, wannabe-mystic voice, he began to speak: "Come to me, ghost of Katie's bedroom. Come speak to us, tell us why you are here!"

Nothing happened.

"O Great Ghost of Katie's bedroom, appear before us, I beg of you! I am calling your spirit!"

Still nothing.

Jett frowned and opened his eyes. "I don't understand why it's not working."

"You've done this before, right?" James asked him.

"Well, no, not personally…but I have experience with this kind of thing! I played a séancer in a Halloween episode of New Town High.

"You mean a medium," I corrected him.

"Why are we talking about lane dividers?"

"What?"

"Lane dividers. Mediums. Those wall things that keep the traffic from running into each other."

"You mean medians?"

"Okay," James interrupted us. "Let's try this once more."

Jett nodded and closed his eyes. "I'm – I'm getting something. A feeling."

"Don't act on it," James urged him. "If you fight it, it might go away."

"Not that kind of feeling! Another feeling…about Katie."

"Oh, gross," I shuddered.

"You – you – you have a crush on James!"

James snorted. "That's the huge feeling you have? The whole world already knows."

"Yes, but what the whole world doesn't know is that you have a crush on her too."

I turned to look at him. "You have a crush on me?"

"Would I let you sleep in my bed if I didn't?"

"But you were so annoyed with me earlier…"

"Well, let's see. You barged into my room at two in the morning, barricaded my door so that it was almost impossible to get out, and then took advantage of my morning wood."

"I was scared," I whined. "And I was just trying to help you out."

"Okay, let's save the disgustingly gooey confessions for later," Jett rolled his eyes, before closing them once more, and shouting, "O Great Spirit of apartment 2J, come to us! Show us that you're with us!"

And that's when a blast of wind swept through the apartment, blowing the candles out.

Jett let out a high-pitched scream, dropped James' and my hands, leapt to his feet, and dashed out of my room and out the apartment door, his turban slightly askew, his medium robes flapping behind him.

"Lousy, good for nothing, lying actor," James grumbled as we fumbled around for my light switch. I found it and flicked it on, but nothing happened.

"Oh, for heaven's sake…" James groaned. We stumbled out to the living room, trying to turn the different appliances on. Nothing happened. James pulled out his phone and sent a text to Bitters, asking what had happened.

Bitters responded a minute later, saying that the wind was picking up outside, and it had knocked out the power. A split second later, there was a clap of thunder, followed by a solid downpour of rain.

James looked at me. "Guess it's time to find our emergency candles and lanterns."

"Oh goody…"

We ended up using Jett's candles, placing them throughout the house, while positioning lanterns nearby.

"Well," James said as we stepped back to admire our handiwork, "I'm sorry we didn't get rid of your ghost. I can't believe Jett bailed on us. Well, no, actually I can. But seriously, what was with the wind?"

I grinned. "It was probably the ghost."

At that moment, my bedroom door slammed closed, before opening again, and then closing once more.

James raised his eyebrows. "Well, if it is a ghost, it seems to like your room."

"Tell me about it. Although, why would it venture out into the living room last night?"

"Maybe it got lonely," he suggested.

"Maybe…"

"So, guess you'll be staying with me," he said, not sounding all that disappointed about it.

"Sounds like a plan."

He grinned, and I smiled back, walking over to him and standing on my tip-toes. I pressed my lips to his, and he kissed me back, wrapping his arms securely around me. I pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

My bedroom door opened and slammed shut once more, and James and I pulled back.

"The ghost is right, we should do this in private," I told him. "Your room?"

"Definitely." He scooped me up and carried me into his room, kicking the door shut.

"Don't forget to lock it. Wouldn't want anyone floating in," I reminded him.

He obeyed, and then kicked a chair up against the door. "Just to be on the safe side," he said, kissing me again, before laying me on the bed. I pulled him down on top of me, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off, but then paused.

"What?" he asked, trying to get me to raise my arms so that he could get my shirt off.

"I just had a thought. What if the ghost gets bored in my room and decides to move in here instead?"

James shrugged and grinned. "Then he's in for one hell of a show."

So, what'd you guys think? Was it any good? Did you like it? Hate it? I know it's more suited to October than February, but maybe you can set that side? *Hopeful look*. But I hope it made you guys laugh, or at least smile, at the very least. Anyway, the review button would love some attention, and I love hearing from you guys, so if you feel like it, let me know what you think :)