It had been three days.

Three days since Peter had been freed from his overly affectionate ghostly admirer. Three days since Marie had tested his sensitivity with nothing more than a teasing touch. Three days of restless, wired energy humming under his skin, like static before a storm.

He hadn't planned on coming back, but then, Peter had never been good at sticking to plans. That's how he found himself standing outside Marie's door, leaning against the frame like he just happened to be in the neighborhood.

He knocked and waited, and after a while the door was pulled open, and there she was - barefoot, hair slightly mussed, wearing a soft tank top and loose sleep shorts that skimmed the tops of her thighs. She looked like she'd been halfway between unwinding and going to bed. Comfortably disheveled. Marie blinked at him, surprise flickering across her face before settling into something more amused.

"Venkman."

Peter let his mouth tug into a lazy grin. "Hey, sweetheart."

She leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms: casual, but watchful. "Didn't take you for the type to make late-night house calls."

"Didn't take you for the type to send a guy home with ghost residue still stuck in his nervous system," Peter countered, stepping closer.

Marie's smirk deepened. "Oh? Having a hard time adjusting?"

"Let's just say… things still feel a little heightened."

He let his voice drop just enough, letting the words carry weight. Close enough now that he could see the way her pulse ticked just beneath the hollow of her throat, the faintest shift in her breath.

Marie arched a brow. "And you thought I'd have a fix for that?"

Peter sighed, running his tongue over his teeth before answering. "Well, you are the expert."

Something shifted in the space between them, small but unmistakable. Marie didn't move right away. She just studied him, letting the air stretch long enough to be intentional. Then, with the faintest tilt of her head, she reached out - fingertips barely ghosting over the inside of his wrist.

Peter felt it.

A sharp, electric zing that shot through him like a wire suddenly live. His pulse jumped, and he was sure she noticed because her smirk turned knowing.

Peter recovered quickly. "Alright, doc, what's the prescription? Cold showers? Meditation? Maybe a thorough distraction?"

Marie hummed, feigning thoughtfulness. "You could wait it out."

Peter scoffed. "Not my style."

He swallowed, just once, before he spoke again. "So… are you gonna admit you like me yet, or are we still pretending you're immune to my charm?"

Marie let her fingers linger for a beat longer before pulling back. "Oh, I like you. Like how a person enjoys a stray cat showing up at their door. Loud, unpredictable… impossible to get rid of."

Peter scoffed, slipping his hands into his pockets as he took another half-step closer. "Admit it, you'd miss me if I left."

Marie hummed, considering. "Sure. Like I'd miss a toothache once it's gone."

Peter huffed a laugh, tilting his head as he studied her. "You're dangerous, you know that?"

Marie leaned in just slightly, just enough that he could catch the faint scent of her skin, warm with something floral. "Because I can see right through you?"

Peter's gaze flicked to her mouth for the briefest second before returning to her eyes. "Because every time you look at me like that, I wanna do something very unprofessional."

Marie didn't blink. "Oh? And what exactly would that be?"

"You're smart," Peter murmured, voice dropping lower. "I'll let you put the pieces together. "

Her breath caught - just barely, but he felt it, the way the air between them thickened, charged with something neither of them had quite named yet.

"You really don't give up, do you?" she asked, voice softer now.

"Can't afford to." Peter's fingers brushed, deliberate and slow, over the curve of her hip, just enough to test the waters. "I'm a scientist, I experiment until I get results."

Marie swallowed, her body barely shifting toward him. "And what results are you looking for exactly?"

His thumb traced a slow, absentminded pattern against the fabric of her shorts. "You," he said smoothly. "Backed up against something, calling my name like it's the only word you know."

A beat of silence.

Marie's lips parted just slightly.

Peter smirked. "See that silence? That's you picturing it."

Her grip tightened on the doorframe - fingers flexing, tension coiling in her shoulders like she was debating her next move. The moment stretched, just long enough for the air between them to feel like something about to snap. Then, instead of answering, Marie stepped back. Just a small shift, just enough space to let the door swing open behind her.

"Well then," she said, turning and walking inside. "I guess you'd better come in."

Peter didn't hesitate.

He stepped over the threshold, the air inside humming with something charged, something heavier than before. The door clicked shut behind him.

Marie turned, moving to lead him further inside but she didn't get far. Peter's hand caught her wrist, gentle but firm, stopping her mid-step. Before she could ask what he was doing, he was already closing the space between them, backing her up until her shoulders met the cool surface of the wall.

Marie barely had time to inhale before his mouth was on hers.

It wasn't tentative. Wasn't careful.

It was quick, decisive - like a man confirming a hypothesis he'd already been certain of. His hands framed her waist, fingers flexing against the fabric of her tank top, pressing her just enough against the wall to remind her that he was right there.

Marie made a small, startled noise against his lips, but Peter didn't pull back. If anything, it only spurred him on. He felt the exact moment she gave in - the shift in her posture, the way her fingers curled into his shirt. The way her lips parted, letting him deepen the kiss, slow but intent, testing every inch of her reaction.

Electricity sparked beneath his skin, that same restless, ghost-driven hum that had been with him for days, only now, it had a focus. A direction.

Marie broke the kiss just long enough to breathe. "Peter…"

He chased her mouth before she could finish, swallowing whatever she was about to say. Her fingers clenched tighter in his shirt, pulling him in closer, and he felt it - the press of her body against his, the warmth of her skin through thin layers of fabric.

His voice was rough when he finally pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. "Experiment's going well so far."

Marie exhaled a soft laugh, her breath warm against his lips. "You always this hands-on with your research?"

Peter smirked, fingers brushing up the curve of her side. "Only when the subject's really interesting."

Her lips quirked, her hands sliding up to his collar, tilting her head as she murmured, "And what's your conclusion, Dr. Venkman?"

Peter grinned. "Gonna need a bigger data set."

And then he kissed her again.