"You two packed," John asked as he walked into the motel room.

"Yeah," Dean said. "You got a job?"

"Yeah. Me and Caleb passed through Virginia and I heard about a house. Mysterious, sometimes violent deaths every couple of decades... sometimes longer. No one had ever linked them, because they're so far apart, and the victims usually aren't connected except that they live in this house."

"You thinking poltergeist or something worse?"

"Neither. There's not a lot of reported consistent activity. I did a little digging to see if it was worth going back. Looks like some people lived in the house with no trouble at all."

"That's weird," Lexi said.

"Extremely," John said. "Your bags in the car?"

"Yeah," Dean said," we're ready to go. I had a feeling you'd want to head right out since you slept."

John nodded his approval at Dean. "You two been staying out of trouble?"

"Yes, sir," Dean and Lexi said together.

A few hours later, they were in a small town in Virginia. Lexi could tell, just driving through, that it was rich in history. The motel wasn't what they were used to. It was homier.

The main problem was that they stuck out in a town this small. The best way to get any information was for John to pretend to be a writer, doing a piece on the history of the house. He could say that Dean and Lexi were his assistants, but the three of them sharing a room might not go over well in a town like this. So, it was decided that Lexi would have her own room, for appearances.

Lexi unlocked her door as John did the same. John stepped inside his room and Lexi winked at Dean before he followed John inside. He threw his duffel on the bed near the window and let out a breath.

"Something wrong," John asked.

Dean shook his head. "No."

"Why the huff? Everything okay with you and Lexi?"

"Yeah, fine."

Dean turned and went through his duffel, avoiding his father's gaze. John eventually nodded.

"Good. I want you to go with her to the library while I see if I can interview the current house owners."

"The library? Really? Why can't I go with you?"

"Because it doesn't take two people, and I may need to send you back later as a fact checker. The research will go faster if you help, and I'll be along to help later, after the interview."

Dean tossed a shirt onto the bed and mumbled under his breath. John didn't like his attitude.

"Problem?"

"No, sir."

"Research is part of the job, Dean. A necessary part. Get over it."

Dean packed his weapons safely away and left the room. A few steps and he was standing at Lexi's door, knocking. She opened the door and smiled when she saw that it was just Dean.

"We've got library duty," Dean said.

"We?"

"Yeah. You ready?"

"Sure."

Lexi grabbed her bag and followed Dean to the car. It didn't take very long to find the library in this small town. It was bigger than Lexi was expecting.

"Well," Lexi said before they got out of the car, "at least we'll be alone for a while."

"Yeah... in public."

"Still-"

"No. No, 'still.' Unless you want me take you in some dark corner of some obscure topic of books that no one would go to, this does not count as being alone."

Lexi grinned, and a slight blush rose into her cheeks. "You'd take me against the shelves?"

Dean stared at her, wanting to touch her, but knowing someone could be watching. "If I thought we wouldn't get caught... damn straight."

Lexi's eyes went to Dean's lips, and he could tell she was about to lean in for a kiss. He got out of the car and went around to her side as she got out.

"Why'd you-"

"Eyes everywhere," Dean said. We just started this case, and we don't know who we'll need to talk to. We can't blow our reporter cover." He took her bag and slung it over his shoulder. "Professional."

"Professional," she repeated.

They walked up the few steps to the door and Lexi took the lead. She walked straight over to the desk.

"Hi," she said softly, "I'm looking into the local history."

"Anything specific," the elderly librarian asked.

"Yes, actually, a house." Lexi pulled out her notepad with the address, but the librarian was already rattling it off. "Yes, ma'am," Lexi said. "That's the one."

"How'd you know," Dean asked.

"You're not the first to ask about that house. We've had a few people come around with different theories as to why that house has seen so much tragedy."

"And I guess they all come through here," Dean said.

"Eventually," she said.

"How long have you lived here," Lexi asked.

"My whole life. I was around for two of the deaths in that house."

"Really," Dean said. "Do you have any theories of your own?"

"Not really. The only thing that either of those families had in common were rumors."

"Rumors," Lexi asked.

"Let's see... The Arbors. The husband died in 1948. I was just a young girl, but I heard talk. He was an alcoholic. Beat his family senseless before he died. And the Franklins... I heard that he abused his little girl. He died in 1976."

"Would it be possible to talk to those families," Dean asked.

"They didn't stay. Moved out and far away after the deaths. Can't say that I blame them."

"So," Lexi said, "where can we find out more of the history?"

"We have an entire section for local news and history," she said pointing. "Most of the newspaper articles are on the computer now, but some aren't. It's a work in progress," she said with a grin. "We also carry copies of a couple of books with some of those theories I mentioned." She wrote down the call numbers and handed it to Lexi.

"Thank you, very much."

Dean followed Lexi to the shelves to find the books. He looked around. This was the hidden corner he talked about. He watched her as her fingers brushed over the book spines looking for the numbers. Before she could find the first one, he gently grabbed her wrist and raised the back of her hand to his lips.

Lexi turned to face him, and he slowly backed her against the shelves with a grin.

"You're crazy," she whispered with wide eyes. "That little old lady could come back here to help us, and what would she see?"

Dean leaned into her and whispered into her ear. "Pure passion."

He heard Lexi sigh, so he kissed her neck, then along her jaw until he came to her lips. His hands rested on her hips, and he slowly pulled away.

"You're right," he said. "We shouldn't, but, damn, baby... I want to."

"So do I, baby."

She leaned in for a quick kiss, then turned back to the shelves. Dean's hands, having never left her hips, squeezed them gently. He kissed her neck and reluctantly took his hands from her.

"I'll go start on the newspapers," he said.