A/N: A tag to the season three opener when Melinda sneaks off to find information in the middle of the night and Jim catches her on her way inside. Considering what had happened at the end of season two and the fact that the episode pretty much doesn't time jump or anything I thought I would write this. Plus I am semi following canon through season three somewhat :) Hope you enjoy xx Mariah

Ages:

Jim - 27
Melinda - 23

Melinda calmly walked through the dusty archives in the basement of City Hall, looking for labels on the shelves. She saw the light turned on two different desks as she turned to walk down enough to see that no one was at that desk. As she turned around she came face to face with a large burly black man, who was clearly annoyed.

"Oh, hi. I didn't see you there." She gasped, looking up at him.

Another man appeared behind him, much younger and joyful compared to the other guy. However, he was of a different nature. Light traveled through him, just around the edges and she looked him up and down. "Hi, what can I do for ya?" the ghost grinned.

She slowly looked back to the man in front of her. "Uh, I was just looking for some information about something." She hadn't seen the archive ghost in a while.

"Information on what? We close in ten minutes." The annoyed, but alive man muttered, stomping past her to his desk. He leaned over the computer, booting the old machine up.

They clearly didn't have the funding most places had. Was that why he was so annoyed? Was he like this all the time? He'd been like this the last time she came here too.

The cheerful ghost shrugged, pulling her attention as she slowly stepped toward the desk silently, listening to him. "Yeah. He's always like that, but don't let him intimidate you." The young man winked before stuffing his hands in his pockets as he disappeared.

Melinda smiled, looking back to the alive archivist who shuffled through the papers and files on his desk as she took the last step toward the desk. "I'm looking for a specific event. It was twenty-five years ago," she said, looking back to him. "1982, to be exact. Here in Grandview."

"And?" The older, annoyed man sat in his chair. He put his hands in his lap as he looked up at her. "Look, this place isn't a library, lady. We are still trying to get everything down here computerized. Put your request in writing and give us two to three weeks here, and I'll see what I can do for you."

The ghost appeared again, off to the side, and looked over at the younger man. "Unbelievable. This guy is just the laziest son of a bitch in the world." The young man scoffed, rolling his eyes as he rubbed his forehead. "If I were still working here…"

Melinda cleared her throat, catching the ghost's attention. "You're not." She muttered as she turned back to the archivist. "Can I just go take a look? I'd know the information I'm looking for if I saw it." She asked cheerfully, hoping the small smile she'd produced helped, but the archivist didn't even glance up from his computer as he grabbed the request sheet and held it to her face.

Shoot.

"As I said before, lady, put your request in writing and give us two to three weeks here, and I'll see what I can do for you." The older man repeated as she took it from him.

"Yeah," the ghost appeared again. "He's just great, isn't he?"

"Just great," she said as she took the paper and walked down the hallway, sliding off to the side to hide from the archivist.

"I knew I liked you." The ghost chuckled, appearing by her as she waited for the annoyed archivist to pass. Once he did, she turned around and started to comb through the shelves, looking over each box individually. "It'll be hard to find anything down here though."

"Yeah, why is it such a mess?" She stepped over a few fallen boxes, papers scattered around. Once she made sure it wasn't something she needed to look through, she continued walking.

"It's not like the people here don't try. They do. Even the lazy guy tries sometimes, but everything always just ends up in disarray down here. Ever since I stopped working here that is." He chuckled, following her as she looked around at all the boxes in the next area of shelves before turning to her right. "Maybe if I knew what you were looking for I could help."

She hummed, looking around as she pondered the writing on one box. "I'm looking for anything related to a street collapse that happened in Grandview back in 1982." She said, looking back at him.

"They warned me about you," he whispered, stepped closer to her.

The lights flickered and his energy changed from something of a joyful pride of his work into a darkness that only reminded her of Romano. That sick bastard.

"They told me that you'd come around here asking questions about things you don't understand." He said, moving his jaw from side to side like he was grinding his teeth. "They told me to stay and keep an eye on the place. Why do you think people will just do your bidding for you?"

"Who told you?" She asked, looking around as the lights flickered. It felt like the building was going to collapse the way it shook. "Show yourself. Where are you?" She wasn't afraid of any ghost that could possibly be working with this one. They couldn't hurt her. She was the one in control here. "Who are you working with? Who told you about me?"

"Does it matter? They already know who you are," he said, smiling at her as he stepped closer, whispering in her ear now. "You are in so over your head, Melinda, and if I were you," he stepped back, just inches away from her. "I would leave and I really wouldn't come back. Ever."

The lights shut off and as they turned back on he was gone. She took a beat to breathe and catch her breath and that was when she noticed the box on the top shelf just in front of her.

H-15

That's exactly what her father had told her in her dream and seeing as she was shorter than the average person, and didn't have anyone around to help her with this feat she set her purse on the floor.

"You've got this," she reassured herself softly and looked over her shoulder as someone whispered her name. It felt as though someone touched her shoulder and she shook the feeling away from her mind as she stood on her tiptoes to try and get the box. With a few reaches and a huff, she was able to get the box down. Just then, the light above goes out and she crashed to the floor with a yell.

The box tumbled down with her and the contents spill out everywhere. She felt around on the floor for her purse as the overhead light didn't turn back on. The generator must not have kicked in yet. Ghosts could do that.

"Oh, dammit..." she felt her bag and pulled it over to her, feeling around inside for her flashlight she always kept on her. "Come on… I know you're in there… where are you?" She grabbed hold of it and stood up, flashing the light around her to see if anyone was there. The lights going out was not a coincidence, but she didn't see anyone. "Where are you? Show yourself."

Melinda could feel the presence near, but still far away. She looked around, shining the flashlight everywhere and coming across a table off to the side.

She grabbed the box and papers, picking them up and putting them on the table as out of nowhere, a ghost's arms come out from the wall and latched around her torso and pulled her close. His hands were quickly searching for her neck as the flashlight fell to the floor and illuminated the space around her.

The young archive ghost appeared in front of her again, scoffing and crossing his arms over his chest. "You were told to go, weren't you?" He said.

"I don't take orders from ghosts," she said, fighting the grip the ghost had on her.

How was Jennifer's father doing this? Was this a vision or something the young archivist ghost was doing?

Jennifer's father's fingers curled around her neck, pressing, closing against her, and cutting off her air. The ghost in front of her, his eyes burned with emptiness and anger as her lungs burn with pain, and desperation to breathe overtook her but she couldn't move no matter how hard she struggled.

"Oh... he is very angry with you, this one," the archive ghost muttered. "He wants to take you down with him. I think I might just let him." He paused, chuckling. "You know there are a lot of very angry ghosts down here. I think it's time I let you meet them."

Jennifer's father grabbed a hold of her throat and squeezed tightly. Her head spun as she tried gasping for air, choking. Her heart, once quickly beating from being startled, was now slowing in tempo. She clawed at the man's hands uselessly and could feel her life slipping away, the edges getting lighter.

"I'm not afraid of you," she said softly, not wanting to strain her voice as she gained enough strength to pull away slightly.

The man pulled her back firmly against the wall. Her eyes were wide with fear and small ragged gasps were escaping her throat. She clawed at his hands struggled against his imaginative grip.

How was this even happening?

"I am not afraid of you!" she screamed and closed her eyes, wishing it to all go away.

"You will be..." the young man chuckled in her ear.

She panted softly and moved her arms around frantically as both ghosts disappeared. The lights flickered on and again she was alone in the archives, her flashlight sitting near her feet. She took a moment to try and regain her composure, her heart beating so quickly it could break right out of her chest.

But she needed to get home before Jim woke up and realized she was gone. She also needed to get this information so she could cross this damn ghost over and get him out of their life.

She slowly walked back to the table, feeling her neck. Her breathing was still ragged as she struggled to breathe, examining each piece of paper carefully, looking to see if she could find anything that would help.

Then, in big bold letters across a front page of the Grandview Harold from 1982 was:

GAS EXPLOSION RIPS THROUGH GRANDVIEW

Well, that would be it. The explosion that killed Jennifer's parents. But then, she noticed something. Her mother was pictured on the front page in a pink dress, hair pinned back.

What was Beth doing in Grandview the year she was born?

Melinda crept into the house fifteen minutes later and closed the door quietly before leaning against it. She breathed in, her hand snaking up to her neck as she held a file of papers she'd looked through and kept.

"I was just about to come looking for you," Jim called out.

She jumped slightly and touched her chest, stepping away from the door. She slipped her shoes off and came toward the living room.

"Where have you been?" Her husband asked, turning on the lamp next to the armchair he was sitting in. Jim's hair was tousled, not only from sleep but obviously from worrying about for however long he'd been awake. He ran his hands through his hair again, sighing. "You scared me half to death when I rolled over to pull you back into me and you weren't there. You didn't even leave a note, Melinda."

"Jim, I didn't think you'd wake up before I got back." She set her purse down along with the file on the coffee table.

"No. Don't Jim me." He shook his head, looking out the window. "I didn't know where you were. What if you'd gotten hurt?" He held up her phone, rolling his eyes. "And then I tried to call you, but you didn't even think to bring this with? How would I have ever found you?"

"I don't want to fight with you, Jim. I hate fighting with you." She sighed, sitting on the ottoman beside him. "I had a dream and needed to figure it out. My father gave me a clue and I needed to go to the archives to check it out. I was only gone for an hour. Tops."

"You just had a near-death experience and now you're just gallivanting to places in the middle of the night without telling me! Melinda, we've talked about this." He exclaimed, looking at her sternly. "You can't be doing things like this without telling me, Melinda."

"I know... I know. But, I needed to go to the archives and check this lead out!" She explained and then moved to sit down on his lap, her hand touching his face in a way of calming him down. "I'm fine. Okay?"

"The archives? Isn't there some ghost down there that told you to stay away?" He asked and then saw the marks Jennifer's father's ghost had left on her neck. "And what the hell is this? Melinda… I'm trying to say calm here." He touched her neck softly and she cried out, pulling away from him. "Who hurt you?" He asked, anger was prominent in his voice, he wanted to kill the person who did this. "Melinda. Tell me."

"No one you can do anything too. He's just a confused and very angry spirit," she said as he kissed the marks on her neck softly. "I'm sorry," he turned his head, meeting hers as she pressed her nose against his. "I'm so sorry, Jim. Please don't be mad at me."

"You know I'm not mad at you, Melinda. I just don't want to see you getting hurt. I was so worried about you when you weren't beside me in bed like I thought you were." He pressed his face into her shoulder. "I didn't know where you'd gone. I love you so much and for a second, it was like when you died. That was the worst minute of my life, Melinda… I didn't know what to do."

"Jim," she whispered, smiling at him. "I'm fine. I don't know what happened tonight, but I will tell you more in the morning. You talk too much sometimes..."

Her husband lifted a hand to touch her cheek, licking his lips as he chuckled. Melinda watched him in fascination, lifting her gaze only to find his own eyes searching her face intently.

He must find what he was looking for, because he leaned down and caught her lips with his own, gently but firmly coaxing her mouth into a usual dance with his. It was a careful kiss, almost a question, a quiet question that she answered by sliding her hands into his thick, black hair and pulling slightly.

He groaned and deepened the kiss, his tongue licking at the seam of her lips, seeking entrance there. Their tongues flicked and licked and search, thorough in their exploration of each other's mouths. Jim's hands moved from the arms of the chair to her hips, pulling her flush into his lap.

She gasped into his mouth as his erection hit her just right, the thin material of her jeans and panties offering little resistance against what strained against his pajama bottoms. She felt the tension build in her lower abdomen as one of his hands glide up from her hip, stopping to palm her breast.

"Jim," she gasped against his lips, her hands sliding from his hair to his shoulders. "Let's take this to our room."

He touched his forehead to her and laughed a little, sounding as dazed as he pulled on the giving neckline of her tank top, pulling it down with her teeth. "You sure I can't just take you right here?"

She inhaled sharply as his lips trailed down to her breast as he pulled her tank top down, leaving it at her waist as he pressed a little kiss to the pert tip of her budding nipple. "On the living room floor…? What are we twenty?" She laughed as he continued to travel with his lips to her stomach, licking her hips as he pulled on her jeans, unbuttoning and zipping them. "Don't be half-assed, Clancy. If you're gonna take me here then take me here."

She let out an embarrassing moan as he slid his hand into her jeans and grasped her through her panties. He moved his body back up to her, his lips pressing a light peck to the hollow of her throat and his nimble fingers tugging insistently at her panties.

"This isn't some cheap romance novel," she said breathlessly in her ear. "I like our bed, Jim."

"I like our bed too," he pulled back, smiling at her as he stood up. She giggled as he picked her up effortlessly, her legs reflexively wrapping around his waist in response. "It only took a week of trying different ones for you to pick it out."

"Yeah. It's special," she smiled, kissing his lips. "It's been ours since the beginning."

The hand that wasn't supporting her back slid up her spine and into her hair as he leaned forward to nip her plump bottom lip between his teeth. It was an aggressive, devastatingly sexy move that left her reeling, effectively silencing her into compliance as he reached the bedroom in record time. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and she laughed as he tossed her onto the bed. He pulled his shirt up and over his head.

She swallowed at the sight of his bare torso—his stomach, taut from his daily run around the neighborhood, not an inch of fat in sight as proof of his profession; his broad chest, dark hair peppered across the defined muscle there. She loved his body. She finally lifted her eyes from his body and try not to flush at his intense stare while he pulled off his shoes.

He really was going to come after her in his pajama pants. Even if he didn't know where she was.

He was next to her, pinning her flat on her back a second later, his mouth wrapped around one of her dusky nipples. His hand crept up to the other, rolling the tight bud in between his fingers as he sucked, flicking his tongue and nipping his teeth against the other puckered bud.

"Jim," Melinda gasped, sliding a hand against the back of his head and holding him against her breast. He looked up at her from beneath thick eyelashes and released her nipples with a soft pop of his lips. "Well, don't stop," she breathed, her voice high and petulant even to her own ears. "I don't want you to stop."

"Oh, Melinda," he chuckled huskily, sounding pleased. He nuzzled the soft valley between her breasts, placing a feather-light kiss there. "We are just getting started. You're going to endure a little soft torture for the next hour as I did when you were gone. Then I'll rock you into a sweet, blissful release."

"You're gonna be the death of me," she gasped, his hand sliding into her panties to tease her ever so slightly

"I know," he laughed and hummed happily as he looked over like she was the dessert table of his dream laid out in front of him. "Now... where was I?"

The next morning, Melinda slid her hand over the still-warm spot next to her and was disappointed to find it empty. Though logically she knew that Jim was probably downstairs in the kitchen following through with his promise he made to her before dawn, whilst another slow and passionate creep toward total bliss together.

He told her that the marks on her neck were almost gone as he'd kissed here there this morning and she touched the strained muscles. She'd only woken up again after falling asleep. She didn't even remember falling asleep.

She slid out of bed then, wincing slightly at her sore muscles, which burn with a good sort of pain that only comes from a night well spent with her husband.

She pulled on one of the many t-shirts she had stolen from Jim over their years of being together before stumbling into the bathroom. She quickly went through her morning routine in her head, pausing before reaching for her toothpaste.

Morning breath or weird minty aftertaste before waffles?

Melinda exited the bathroom a few minutes later, running her tongue over her clean teeth. She'd rather have toothpaste flavored waffles than greet Jim with a stale breath. She checked her reflection in her vanity mirror, moving to fix her rattled sex hair.

She stopped, impulsively deciding to leave it down because she knew how much Jim loved the sight of her tousled hair, the feel of Jim's warm fingers carding through the stands still memorable.

Melinda walked out of the room and down the stairs before emerging into the kitchen. She smiled at the sight of her husband singing and dancing around the kitchen to smooth jazz while making breakfast.

"I knew I should've brought the camera down," she laughed and stopped in the kitchen doorway.

"Hello gorgeous," he says, sliding over to me and kissing her deeply before spinning her into him. She was caught in his arms, not that she minded, pressing a kiss to his neck as she swayed back and forth with him. "I am glad you finally decided to join me. What took you so long?"

"I fell asleep for longer than expected… but you know that I love you," she said as he spun her around again before pulling her close.

"I love you too," he dipped her and leaned forward, looking at her had his breathing become shallow and made his heart beat a little faster.

With their bodies nearly touching one another and their faces so close, to Melinda's surprise, her face turned a light shade of pink while her heart began. "So, you gonna kiss me?"

Locking eyes, they were unable to keep away from each other. Jim took in a deep breath as he pulled her back up to standing, with her in his arms as he kissed her briefly before walking back to the stove.

What the hell? She hadn't expected that after everything.

"That was," she paused as he flipped the waffle onto a plate and lightly squeezed a freshly sliced orange over it before draping syrup, powdered sugar, and fruit over it. "Not the kiss I wanted from you."

"I know. I had to flip the waffle and didn't want it to burn," he said as she came up to the island, grabbing some raspberries from the bowl in front of her. "I'll make it up to you." He held the plate out to her with a kiss. A better one. Longer and passionate as he lightly tongued her before pulling back, feeling her move with him slightly as the plate clanged slightly when she set it down. "Better?"

"Yes," she whispered against his lips and pressed them against hers again, moving her now free hands through his hand.

He picked her up then and she giggled, feeling his hands slide under the shirt as he pinned her to the wall to the side of them. "Isn't this my old shirt?" He asked, pulling away enough to look down.

"I've had this since the city," she laughed and pulled his chin back towards her. "Now stop stalling and keep going."