A/N: I thought it'd be nice to take a trip down memory lane with some early on Jim and Mel together and in the city... enjoy xx Mariah

Ages:

Jim - 24
Melinda - 20


Jim stood outside his truck, his hands were in his hair, and his heart was on the ground. There was no way he was going to be able to save himself this time. His phone rang in his pocket, reminding him that he'd had a date tonight with someone significant.

He sighed and leaned up against the back-end of his truck. "Damnit," he muttered, fishing it from his pocket and answering it. "Mel?"

"Jim?" Her voice on the phone was pinched with annoyance. She was probably standing outside the movie theatre, her coat on her shoulders, and a hat covering her head. "You were supposed to be here a half-hour ago. Where are you?"

"Uh, yeah, about that," he started and then stopped. There was no easy way to say it. He knew she was going to be pissed at him. "I kind of, uh… I had a little car accident."

"You what?" The phone crinkled. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he sighed. "That big curve on twelfth? Well, I was going too fast and it's icy, and I slid into the telephone pole."

She had warned him so many times about taking that corner more slowly, especially in his truck. His luck was bound to run out sooner or later. And with the light snow falling, well tonight, the odds were not in his favor.

"Are you okay?" She repeated her question, more annoyance in her voice.

"I'm fine. Just a little embarrassed and shaken up. I'm waiting for the tow now, but I don't think my truck is going to be drivable once it's pulled out of the snowbank. Would you mind picking me up?" He knew he could ask the tow truck driver to drop him off on his way to the garage, but his heart was still pounding pretty hard, and he just wanted to see Melinda, even if she's going to be mad at him.

"I'm already on my way," she said, and the call ended before he can even thank her.


The tow truck driver was gruff and grumpy and smelled enough like liquor to make him leery, but the man didn't make fun of him, and he let him sit in the warm cab of his truck while he waited for Melinda. It wasn't very long before her rusty blue Corolla cautiously rounded the bend and pulled off to the side of the road.

He jumped out of the truck to meet her as she turned her emergency lights on and jumped out of her car. He watched her piercing brown eyes evaluate him head to toe, eyebrows knotted together while she checked for signs of injury before she hugged him hard. "Melinda, I am so sorry—"

"I told you to be careful," she said as she pressed her face into his chest, not bothering to look up at him but there was no malice in her voice.

"I know," he sighed, rubbing her hands up and down her back. "I'm really sorry."

"Cocky bastard," she pulled back, sighing. "I was really worried, and standing outside that theatre all this time waiting for you. What if you had gotten hurt?"

She began to tug him back towards her car, but he remembered the tow truck guy. "Let me just make sure Tyler here knows where to haul my truck," he murmured and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll be right back."

He walked back over to where the tow truck guy was standing at the back of his truck, fiddling with a lever, hooks, and chains already attached to the truck bumper. The man turned off the winch to speak. "Don't worry about me, kid," Tyler said. "I know where to dump your piece of shit at. I think you'd be best to worry about gettin' you and your girl home before it gets worse out here."

Her gasp sliced the otherwise quiet night. Jim thought Melinda was waiting in her car. Instead, she's staring at the crumpled mess of his truck. She glanced over, hesitantly. Her eyes were wide as saucers, hand covering her mouth. He couldn't read her expression. She turned abruptly, stalking away from him, to her car.

He walked back to her car alone and could see her wiping away a few tears as he got in, but he didn't say anything at first. She was utterly silent the entire drive back to her apartment, white-knuckles on the steering wheel, lips pinched tightly. The entire time he just felt shitty, not only for trashing his truck, but for ruining their date and disappointing her this badly. She looked great, from what he could see under her coat.

Melinda jumped out of the car as soon as she parked, practically stomping up the street to the apartment complex. She was in the building before he'd even shut the car door. When he walked into her apartment, he found her standing just inside the living room, facing away from him. The lines of her body were tense; arms crossed and shoulders high. Her anger was practically radiated from her small frame, and he just waited for it all to come crashing back to him.

He deserved every bit of it, and wouldn't hold it against her one bit. Especially when she practically yanked her coat off and that's when he finally saw the dress she was wearing.

"I'm sorry, Mel. I - I'm just sorry." She whirled around to face him, but instead of the fury he was expecting, her face was a mask of anguish.

"You - you think I'm mad, Jim?" her voice caught a little on his name, tears shimmering in her eyes. "You could have died." It's a whisper, but it feels like she's screaming inside and tightly reining it in. "I could have lost you, and... I can't lose you." A single tear overflowed, curling down her cheek, cutting through him like a knife. "I don't think I could survive that." And then she's in his arms, holding him so tightly he could feel her heart beating against his own, feel how her body trembled where it's wrapped around his.

"At least if I died you could have still seen me one more time," he reminded her.

She looked up at him, shaking her head. "That's not funny, Jim." She whispered. "I don't want to joke about that."

"Okay, " he told her, smiling sadly. "I won't, Mel."

She nodded, holding him close. "I love you. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"I'm sorry about tonight," he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look in this dress?"

She laughed, wiping away her tears as she looked up at him.

He was calm when it happened. From the moment he knew he wasn't going to make the bend it was as if he was merely an observer. The slow-motion slide, the stomach-heaving sensation of crashing into the pole. The awkwardness of climbing out the passenger side door, as if it was an escape hatch. Scrambling up the shallow embankment on hands and knees, the dampness of the snow soaking through his slacks.

Even calling Tyler's tow service felt like it had happened to someone else. But standing here now, Melinda holding him close with tears streaming down her face, it all rushed in, all of the fear and adrenaline he'd suppressed at the moment.

It was a relatively minor accident that could have been so much worse. Maybe should have been. He didn't notice he was shaking until Melinda pulled back, looking into his eyes. Then she wordlessly tugged him into her bedroom.

She undressed him, and herself, with a gentle efficiency, peeling back the sheets on her bed before lying down and tugging him into the cradle of her naked body. Her hands traced soothing trails over her sensitized flesh, and even as her tears continued she whispered comforting bits of nonsense. Reminding him that while he could have lost everything tonight, he didn't.

And that she was here, and so was he. This was real.