Peter smiled at the wonderful sensations along his nape and jaw, his hip and thigh, wrapped around him. He turned into the mouth by his face, digging his hands into the long hair falling around him. He moaned pleasurably as the weight of his bedmate settled, pressing him into the mattress. Peter's eyes opened.
He quickly took in the face above his and what little he could see past the light blond hair. The one hand slipped to the back of Egon's neck, thumb dragging over the jaw's invisible stubble, while the other slid down Egon's side. Peter's lids shut as he arched up at the insistent loving.
Mouths drifted as Peter held on. His hands dragged over the long back, confused by the cloth under them. Latching first one and then the other into Egon's hair, Peter sealed their lips back together. They quaked together and then stilled. It took Peter a moment to understand what he was seeing; the posts of his bed, and the former guestroom beyond them.
"Morning." He looked for the clock beside his bed, belatedly realizing that it hadn't been moved. However, the still dark window behind the curtains told him it was much too early.
"Spengs." Peter held on, preventing the taller man from rolling away. "You know how I like my beauty sleep. Though, I'll grant this is much better than your other wake-up calls." Nightshirt. What was under his hands was Egon's nightshirt.
Peter noticed that his own pajama bottoms were only half pushed down, the elastic somewhere above his knees. He let Egon slide off. Kicking the bottoms free, Peter finished unbuttoning the top.
"What are you planning?"
"Going back to sleep." Peter wiped himself off with the balled-up top and then did the same for Egon. He tossed it over the side of the bed. "Take this off." He plucked at the nightshirt.
Egon pulled the nightshirt over his head, loosely folded and tucked it under his pillow. He was still regarding Peter's eye-rolling expression when the stubbled cheek landed on his chest. He rubbed a fingertip across it.
"You know yours is dangerous? You can't see it, but it's sharp like a copper brush." Peter found himself on his back, being face rasped. "OH!" When he noticed Egon had retreated, he pulled the head down to the other side. "That... was a... goood sound."
"I thought you were going back to sleep?"
"Did I say right away?" Peter rolled them, kissing Egon hard, blond hair spread over the pillow. He pulled away before latching onto the skin beyond the stubble. His left hand moved down to tease over Egon's chest.
They rolled repeatedly, dueling to reach favored bits of flesh. Peter flipped Egon onto him, toying with the dangling hair while smiling wide. "Good morning." The smile turned into a yawn. "Naptime."
Egon rolled his eyes as Peter drifted off. He slept too.
Egon woke up, looked at Peter and decided he might as well get his shower before trying to shift the psychologist. He swung his legs out from under the blankets and slipped on his nightshirt, put on his glasses and stood, picking up the hairpins before heading for the bathroom.
Finished, he went into the bunkroom to gather his clothes.
"Morning, Egon." Ray swung out of bed.
"Morning, Ray." Task accomplished, Egon returned to the small room. Getting dressed, he looked down at Peter now sprawled as usual. Except for the bare arms reaching from under the covers. Egon surveyed the situation from several angles, judged, and then snapped the blankets down.
"Egon!" Peter scrunched up against the chill air on his naked flesh. He rooted around for the previously shed bottoms. "Couldn't you for once let me sleep in?" He pulled on the pajama pants, looking around for the shirt. His eyes fell on the soiled lump.
"There are things to do. Of which your shower is not the least."
"You're cranky in the morning. You do know that?" Peter jumped out of bed, jolted by the cold floor under his bare feet. He peered down to the absent slippers, then headed for and through the door, glowering.
Egon smiled before leaving the room himself.
Showered and shaved and rather hungry, Peter headed for the bunkroom, started to turn for the ex-guestroom and then resumed his original course. Quickly he plucked clothes from the various stockpiles and started getting dressed.
Winston came in laden with stacks of folded laundry. He set the basket down, pulled off two short stacks and placed them on Ray's bunk. Only then did he notice Peter.
Peter hurriedly pulled on his t-shirt. "Um, still need to move my clothes." He scooped out a mass from the closet floor, and precariously balanced several things from his drawers on top before leaving with his burden.
Winston looked out the door watching Peter go and then sat down heavily, toppling the laundry. Just how did you get things back to normal around this?
Ray regarded the other three men trying to go through the motions of a typical weekend. Well, two were trying; Egon was in usual swing, if that included moving his things into the guestroom. Which was exactly what Egon made it look like. Peter and Winston on the other hand were missing by a mile. He wasn't sure which was the more disturbing. The whole attempt to pretend everything was normal when clearly, from Peter and Winston's discomfort, it wasn't, was finally too much. Ray excused himself and headed to the comic store.
Winston tried. Knowing they knew he knew proved more disturbing than him just knowing. He'd made the right decision, the only decision he could have made in the circumstances. The circumstances, however, were difficult to accept. After a day and afternoon of trying to act natural about something anything but, he finally decided to visit with his family.
Egon looked at the closet floor. The few square inches of it not buried by the pile of Peter's clothes. He turned and saw Peter with a mishmash armful entering the room. "Peter, close the door."
Peter dropped the mound on the bed, startled. "Spengs."
Egon stepped over and pushed the door closed with a long arm. "Peter, I can't share a closet with you." He pointed at the nest at the bottom, below his neatly hanging shirts.
"Looks fine to me. Different areas--"
"That is not acceptable."
"Spengs." Peter judged Egon's mood, surprised. "I've always done that."
"Isn't it time to stop?"
Egon woke early. He lay there for a moment letting the particulars envelop him. His mind broke in with his task that day. Telling Janine. Carefully he unwrapped himself from Peter and slid out of bed quietly. He showered and got dressed, going over in his head what he was going to say one more time.
His descent to the first floor was timed with Janine's arrival. "Janine, I would like to speak with you for a moment."
Janine turned from hanging her coat. "Sure, Egon." Smiling, she walked over to stand next to him, looking up.
"Um, in the office." He directed her into the nominally private confines of Peter's unwalled area. He showed her a chair and stood, finally perching on the desk. He sat there, the seconds ticking off.
Janine noticed the small nervous tells that passed for Egon fidgeting. He was clearly anxious about something and it could only be personal. "Maybe you should just say whatever is on your mind." Janine smiled encouragingly. Was he finally going to make a move?
"Right. I wanted to let you know things have changed. I-- I'm seeing Peter."
Janine waited a moment for Egon to finish. "Professionally? I mean Peter's other profession?" This conversation was taking a strange turn.
"No. I mean we, Peter and I, are seeing each other personally, in a romantic sense." It hadn't occurred that he'd have to clarify his first statement.
Janine laughed. Egon had such an absurd sense of humor; it was adorable. She stopped smiling when she noted the concerned expression. He was supposed to say that she'd surmised correctly. "You're joking." Her voice was laden with a barely held panic. "You are joking, right?"
"No. I just wanted to let you know where things stood." Egon matched his actions to words and stepped away from the desk.
"You and Peter? You expect me to believe that? Egon, what's really going on? Is there something wrong you don't want to tell me?" What could be happening that he thought this lie would be kinder? This had to be a lie.
"There is nothing wrong. Peter and I have simply found a new level to our relationship." Egon held his expression, figuring revealing his happiness wasn't appropriate under the circumstances.
Janine leaped out of her chair. "New level?! Are you two doing the horizontal mambo? Is that what you are trying to tell me?" What the hell had been going on in the firehouse?
"If you wish to be so crude. Janine..." Egon realized there were no words. She would get over it. He'd have to allow her time. Standing back while she was obviously upset was difficult.
"Crude!? You think that's crude?!" Her expression twisted as she stoppered her tirade. "What did the guys think? Or am I the only one that thinks something weird is going on?" Maybe voodoo.
"I expected you would have a strong reaction, since it affects you more." Honestly, he hadn't expected this much of a response.
"And they didn't?!" Something this out of the blue? "They knew before me! I can't believe you. How long has this been going on?" How blind could she be?
"Not quite two months. Janine, I'm not going to discuss this in detail. Peter and I are together." Two months. "I guess the best man won." Janine stalked to her desk and sat, pulling sharply at her supplies.
Egon swallowed and straightened his shoulders before heading to the lab. That was out of the way, at least.
Janine couldn't get her mind around it. She'd have noticed this. Two months. Hadn't Peter been encouraging her not that long ago? This couldn't be real. She'd once sort of worried... Peter. Of all the people, Egon was with Peter. Always hesitant with her and instead he ran into Peter's arms. Her thoughts roiled.
Winston walked down the stairs, spotting the red-haired secretary. "Good morning, Janine."
"For you. You four been laughing it up at my expense? I can't believe you!"
Winston stopped balanced on one tread. He didn't even hear the words that further sliced from Janine's mouth. He had no words of comfort; this seriously weirded him out too. He should have known this was coming. Realizing that Janine had ceased her volley, Winston quickly made his way to Ecto.
The firehouse alarm woke Peter. Muzzily he stumbled out of bed in search of his clothes. He just stopped himself from running into the wall; his body on autopilot still was heading for the bunkroom closet. Scrounging up clothes he dressed frantically and ran downstairs for the kitchen.
Grabbing a piece of toast, he ran for the firepole and popping the toast in his mouth, slid downstairs. The rest of the guys were sitting in Ecto, his empty jumpsuit on the seat obvious through the still open door.
Janine stared at Peter as he touched ground. "Half of Manhattan wasn't enough?"
Janine stood looking down at him though her gaze was up. The toast dipped. Peter's face went slack as he halted before sprinting for the car. He yanked the door shut and the car lumbered out onto the street.
Peter zipped up his uniform not a block from their first job of the day. Winston checked the rearview mirror, noting the distant look on Peter's face. The day was just going to be a joy.
Winston pulled into park. "Peter, you go with Ray. Egon, you're with me." Winston got out of Ecto-1 and headed for the back, followed by the others. Winston, Egon, Ray, and finally Peter gathered up packs and traps. It just wasn't like Peter to be last. Not without a joke to go with it.
Winston let Egon take point with the PKE meter, unshipping his thrower as they entered the boarded-up brownstone. He didn't like how vague the client had been in describing the problem.
Ray glanced over at Peter while they hunted for the apparition. He was tensed, all a jangle and completely unlike himself. Peter almost looked like those first early days. "Let's head this way."
Winston looked over his shoulder and then put on a little more speed. How did Peter do this more than once a day? Winston's eyes went big at the steep flight of stairs ahead of him, and turned his head back. The ghost was right behind him.
Winston slid down the bannister to the factory floor. Doing a running dismount, he dropped and skidded out of the way as three beams hit the spectre.
"How about we trap this thing?" Peter threw the words back, keeping his eyes as firm on the ghost as his beam. A fourth stream lashed out and a trap was thrown. The manifestation fought but was sucked down.
Winston looked at Peter oddly as he was given a hand up without a word.
"That was cool!" Ray absently gave Winston the five Peter normally would have bestowed.
Ecto-1 pulled into the firehouse, the safety light giving a faint glow once the headlights dimmed. The four men piled out of the car, Winston snapping on the forefloor lights, leaving the office area dark. Peter helped Ray gather used traps from the back and pull out the packs, while Winston hefted two of the packs and walked them over to recharging. Egon reached out a hand to Peter as Ray headed downstairs with an armload of traps.
Peter looked back briefly before grabbing his pack and heading for the charger. Egon followed suit, holding his questions for the moment.
Traps emptied, packs recycling and showers had, the four passed around the white takeout boxes, scooping out their preferences.
Winston looked over at Peter. He paused before finding something to say. "Are they going to take that display of chattering teeth out of our fee?"
"Hey, it could have happened to any one of us. No, I convinced them that they'd been thrown. Self-defense." Peter dug into his food.
"Should have put you up against the peanut brickle cans."
Egon snickered at Ray's comment. Not that it had been funny in the least as the lids started popping off. Peter versus the springloaded snakes however...
Peter shot a long-suffering look. "We ever get called to a glass eye factory, you're taking point. Ray, do I want to know what is in those boxes you came home with Sunday?"
"It was a great swap meet." Ray enthused over the great things he'd seen, and more over how he'd traded up for the stuff he'd brought back.
Winston shook his head. "I guess it's true. One man's garbage is another man's treasure." Winston carefully peeked over at Peter. That he hadn't even looked for an opening in the monologue worried him.
"You know, we got really lucky with that bust at the garment district warehouse." Ray lifted a big bite with his chopsticks.
Winston smiled slightly. "What, that we didn't get that spectre at a laundry?" He had to admit it had been pretty ridiculous being pelted with panties, even after the ghost started snap launching them.
"It could have been bras."
Peter winced and started rubbing his shoulder. Winston noted Ray waiting for Egon to speak. "There a tale here?"
Peter interrupted. "Just an old campaign wound from my frat days."
Ray chuckled. "One of the co-eds beat him down the hall with a brassiere."
Winston laughed. "War of the sexes got a little literal?"
Egon finally joined in. "Live by the sword, smote by the sword."
"Very funny. Do you happen to recall how much metal used to be in them? The airport guys must have had fun."
The pause after Peter's words stretched into a chasm. Finally Winston rushed in to close the gap. "We really should find time to do a thorough stripdown of the traps." The conversation ran in that vein for the rest of the meal.
Peter excused himself and left the kitchen. Egon sat for a moment as Ray and Winston started clearing the table before following. Ray looked up, box still held above the trashcan in his other hand.
"Any idea what's wrong with Peter?"
Winston looked over. "I've been asking myself that."
Egon entered their bedroom, closing the door softly behind him. He regarded Peter sitting on the left edge, a set of pajamas to one side.
"Don't know about you, but today was long. Think I'll turn in early." Peter started to strip off his shirt.
"Not before we talk." Egon watched Peter halt. "I'd have thought by now you'd have calmed down."
Peter turned around at the non-sequitur.
"You are still pouting about Winston disclosing his awareness of our relationship."
"I do not pout. It took you by surprise too."
"Be that as it may, you have been behaving most strangely today." Egon peered at Peter. "You'd save time if you'd just share what is troubling you."
Peter turned away and pulled off his shirt, slipping on his pajama top. Standing, he finished getting changed for bed.
Egon pursed his mouth and glanced perturbedly at Peter slipping into bed. Finally, he pulled out his nightshirt and started undressing. Pushing his arms into the sleeves, he finally spoke. "I told Janine this morning. She was surprised of course, but I think overall it went well."
"According to what index?!" Peter looked at Egon like he was out of his mind.
Egon raised an eyebrow at the outburst.
Peter couldn't find words to express himself for a moment. "What the hell were you thinking? Why didn't you warn me?" Peter jumped out of bed, jamming his feet into slippers. He started for the door and then turned, pacing agitatedly.
"Did she say something?" Egon tensed with foreboding.
"'Half of Manhattan wasn't enough?'" The words were shot out coldly. "Yeah, you could call that something. Great way to wake up. Better than coffee." Peter plunked back onto the bed. He turned to face Egon. The fear was written in his eyes.
It was with great effort that Egon masked his anger, and instead reached for Peter. At first Peter shrugged away from him, finally landing against the lean chest and holding on tight. Wrapping his left arm around Peter, Egon lifted the blankets first for Peter's and then his own legs. Sliding down, he clasped his long fingered right hand over the nape and occiput.
Meanwhile...
Ray and Winston had discussed and discarded multiple options for what was bugging Peter. That sat at an impasse. "Oh, Egon broke the news to Janine."
It took Ray a moment to catch the turn. He frowned, finally thinking how this would affect their secretary. "We should do something nice for her."
Winston shook his head. "Not now. Last thing she's going to want is sympathy."
Ray thought back to the morning. "Think she might have said something to Peter?"
It was Winston's turn to follow the conversation. "Was she anywhere near him?" He could read the answer on Ray's face.
The two men shook their heads.
Egon woke, Peter still draped warmly over him. A smile flirted over his lips. He could easily study this phenomena for extensive periods. He peered at his sleeping armful, very content. The smile disappeared as he recalled why he was wearing Peter. Egon considered carefully how to extricate himself without waking the psychologist.
He gently slid from under Peter, hand on his back until clearing the bed. He looked down for a moment, watching Peter clutch at the empty space in the bed and then finally pull at the vacated pillow. Something in him twisted as he stayed from slipping back into bed. Egon was not happy as he left the room.
Janine entered the firehouse through the small door to find Egon sitting at her desk. Her step hitched before striding the rest of the way. She hung up her coat resolutely. She opened the desk drawer and stowed her purse.
Egon turned his head. "It was completely uncalled for."
Confusion turned into confrontation. "What?" She stood with her shoulders back and arms slightly akimbo. "What you said to Peter. It was completely unnecessary." Egon bit out the words with all the control he could muster. His fuming bled through regardless.
Janine looked at him uncomprehendingly for a minute. "What I said to Peter?! How about you suddenly sleeping with him!?"
"That has nothing to do with you."
Janine was utterly stunned. "Nothing? You broadside me with this and just expect me to accept it? I've got feelings even if you don't!"
Egon exhaled. "Janine, while I'm flattered to an extent, I am with Peter."
"Flattered?! You pick a fine time to say something! Why did you wait so long?" She tried to think; this was too much first thing after the subway. "Why now? No. Why did you end up in Peter's arms?"
"It's not up for debate. Any problems you have with this, tell me and leave Peter alone."
"Peter?! You certainly didn't think to spare my feelings. Just who are you to dictate my emotions?"
"Your emotions are your own affair. Peter's are mine."
The slap impacted with his jaw with a retort. Janine was easily as surprised as Egon.
"You have the day off. Paid."
Janine blinked and swallowed. Reversing her movements, she retrieved her purse and pushed in the drawer, grabbed her coat slipping into the sleeves, and walked to the door. She paused briefly, not quite looking back before stepping outside.
Egon gingerly touched the side of his face.
Peter snuggled in tighter as he stirred, nuzzling into the pillow under his face. Opening his eyes he looked at the soft armful. "I could have sworn I had a physicist when I went to sleep." He looked disbelievingly at the clock and fell onto his back. He tried drifting off, giving up in a few minutes. Peter slung the pillow at the headboard as he crawled out of bed.
He managed to catch Ray and Winston still at breakfast after his shower. "Either of you seen Egon?" Hearing himself, he wished he could recall the words.
Winston halted mid-chew. His grip tightened on the fork.
The smile to match the twinkle in his eye swam around Ray's face. "I think he's in the lab." The red-headed ghostbuster turned slightly to Winston. "Must have designed a new alarm."
Winston grinned, lowering his fork. He smiled wider while shaking his head. Only Ray.... "By the way, Peter, you get to do all the bait-playing today."
The non-emergency bell went off, pulling the four together. Egon avoided eye contact and Peter didn't try drawing it. Breaking the slight pause, Ray took the firepole while the others double-timed down the stairs.
Ray stopped a moment at the empty desk in route to Ecto. The day's orders were scooped up as he looked at the pushed in chair.
"She's taking a day off." Egon answered before setting to loading for the day's busts.
Winston filed the fact away without remark. The reardoor closed, he maneuvered Ecto out the large doors and onto the street.
It was late when the former ambulance again pulled into the firehouse and disgorged the worse for wear Ghostbusters. Peter was wearing no fewer than five colors of ectoplasmic residue. Ray bore distinct scorch and soot marks.
"I'm taking first shower." Winston was covered with flocking, his mouth and eyes dark exceptions in his face. He grabbed the bags of drive-thru detritus and headed to the stairs, leaving a white trail as flocking fell from his uniform. He tossed the garbage into the waste can by the desk.
Ray hefted his pack from the back of Ecto and set it into the charger before returning for another. Peter waved Ray upstairs as he noticed the extensive damage to the occultist's jumpsuit.
Egon leaned in to finish unloading. His muscles resisted the motion, stiff from sitting after being flung about.
"Egon, leave the packs." He could see the strained twitches in the long back. Peter dusted at the glittered shoulders. He had no doubts that the landings had been anything but soft. "You sure you're okay?"
"I've been better. And... I've been more battered. The traps need to be emptied." He fished them out.
Peter bit the inside of his mouth as Egon entered their room, glitter still clinging to the wet and recoiffed blond hair. He sat up sharply, a touch too sharply, as he noticed the excessive care Egon was taking with his steps.
"Hurting yourself is no help to me." Egon eased down onto the bed, lifting his legs up. "Nothing a night of warm compression won't help." He pulled a puzzled Peter into place. Long fingered hands slid over Peter, searching out any sore spots and knots.
"Writing checks my body can't cash?" Peter gently kneaded at Egon, mindful of the bruises sure to be under the nightshirt. He nuzzled along the damp neck and near ear.
Egon shifted them to better get at Peter's mouth and neck. His right hand slid down. He smiled at the moan he silenced. He pulled back slightly from the kiss. "I think there are sufficient funds."
Peter looked at Egon in disbelief. Then a naughty smile bloomed. "Two can play that game." He frowned at Egon's mirthful pursed lips, rolling his eyes in warning. Fabric rustled. "If your nightshirt wasn't so long."
Egon moved slightly, allowing Peter to hitch up the previously pinned garment. He gasped as the hand closed.
"Remember where we were?" Peter nipped at the prominent chin. He pulled at the glasses' bridge with his right, stretching to get them on the nightstand with a minimum of clatter.
Egon leaned over Peter, rubbing their faces together. "Transaction."
Later... Early morning.
"Winston." Ray looked over across the dark bunkroom. "Winston."
"Yes, Ray?" The forbearing voice answered.
Ray's voice was mildly apologetic, "Why isn't this with Egon and Peter making people happier? I mean, I understand Janine being upset..."
Winston rolled over. "Why should it?" It wasn't really said as a question.
Ray blinked. "They're together."
Winston sighed for strength at the simple earnestness of Ray. "Isn't that enough?"
Ray was shocked by his friend's tone. "They're our friends!"
"And that makes it okay? Look, I don't like it. And I don't have to." Winston chose his next words carefully. "I can keep the distinction between the sinner and the sin."
Ray turned on the lamp and sat up. His normally boyish features were stern. Winston shielded his eyes.
"And you decided to move Peter's bed why?"
Winston reined together his thoughts. "What choice did they leave? You think this should be making people happy, then why weren't they upfront? Think about that, Ray." Winston sat for a moment and then slid out of bed into slippers and his robe.
Ray was left to his own thoughts.
Peter smiled against the firm chest he was draped over. Regardless of the time, it was good to wake to. For a few minutes Peter peacefully listened to Egon breathe. Then he opened his eyes with an appraising gleam.
The first teasing touch was a tentative finger trailed along the shoulder seam of the nightshirt. Two, then three traced along the lean side just firmly enough not to tickle. The hand cupped over the cloth covered hipbone, thumb teasing a circle. Egon shifted slightly under the touch, still sleeping.
Peter's palm slid upwards, stroking Egon's chest. Fingers fanned, skimming the understated right pectoral. Finally, fingertips lightly brushed the nipple. Egon jerked.
Peter taunted the peak, nuzzling into the other side. His fingers danced over the trembling torso. He was startled as a strong arm clamped over him, pulling Peter length to length.
Egon's expression was very intent as one long hand slid into the back of Peter's pajama bottoms, stroking the bare thigh. He smiled as Peter squirmed, shoving the other hand up the pajama top.
Peter bore down, heedless of the separating fabric while calloused fingertips rasped sensitive flesh. Stretching up, he sealed his lips forcefully to Egon's.
Egon's fingers tensed before surging into the kiss, hand quickly abandoning Peter's back to first relocate the psychologist's right hand and press his head to the right.
Peter slowly pulled back as the kiss broke, peering at the left side of Egon's face. "Egon, turn on the light." Blinking at the brightness, Peter gaped at the dark mark along Egon's jaw. "Spengs, why didn't you mention this?"
"It's nothing." His hands returned to their persuasion, drifting two trails along Peter's back and thighs.
Peter tried to ignore the nonverbal argument and probed the edge of the bruise. Eight fingers gave their involuntary verdict. "Nothing?"
"This is not the time or the place." Egon endeavored to remind Peter of the activity in progress.
Peter looked at the wound with increasing suspicion. "Goopers didn't do this."
"No." Egon escalated his entreaty, kissing away any further questions. The gambit was spoiled by Peter's hand sliding over the stain-spread jaw. Peter pulled away to one side.
"If not on the job, then how?" Peter fended off the distracting hands, catching Egon's right in his left.
Egon looked at Peter in frustration. "Janine slapped me." He maneuvered closer to Peter, trying to regain lost ground.
"She what?!" Peter sat up.
Egon rolled onto his back, resigned. He gathered his thoughts. "I'd underestimated her response. Things are clear now."
"Clear?! Janine-- why the... Spengs. I'm-- I can't believe..." Peter spluttered on, even less intelligibly, only his anger decipherable.
Egon started to speak, only to be interrupted by the fire bell. "Load my equipment. I've got a quick shower to take."
Ray held the ghost in the proton beam and threw out a trap. He looked over to the other guys as the light fanned out. Egon had been acting weird during the first bust, but whatever had been bothering him showed no signs of returning. Ray picked his next ghost and repeated his actions. He laughed as Peter called out, "Don't worry signing the registry", before trapping yet another of the ghosts. It was nice having Peter back.
Winston was another story. He hadn't said anything beyond the strictly necessary all day. Ray just didn't understand why this should affect them so.
"The ghosts are abandoning." Egon looked at the calming PKE meter, stepping to one side to avoid the splat of ectoplasm falling from the skylight above.
Peter looked down at his lower legs and boots. "Thanks, Egon."
Winston silently headed for Ecto after checking that the area really was secured. Ray followed, too concerned to comment on the finished job.
Ecto pulled into the firehouse in the failing light of afternoon. As it came to a stop, one door opened, disgorging a long and thoroughly slimed leg. The rest of Egon unfolded, revealing a head to foot ectoplasmically glazed physicist. Without a word he headed towards the stairs.
Janine looked up as Egon approached. She reined in her automatic impulse to fuss over him, then noticed the angry rebuke staining his left jaw. She looked back down at her work as he mounted the treads and disappeared, leaving behind a distinct squelching sound.
The other three got out and started unloading. The packs recharging and just a few trips of traps left, Peter waved Winston and Ray off. Ray looked at the psychologist warily and then at Winston, perplexed that he didn't react more than head away.
"Go on." Peter brushed his hands in a shooing motion, giving an indulgent smile. As soon as Ray was out of the way, Peter's eyes went glinty before heading downstairs with a load of traps. Peter came back up from the basement and stealthfully made his way to beside Janine's desk.
"Did that make you feel good?!"
Janine looked up.
"What the hell were you thinking, slapping him?!"
"Slapping him? How about you 'He's just shy, let him get used to you.'? How'd you get him used to you?!" Janine gave Peter a prurient look.
"So he's not shy. When he wants somebody."
Ray hurried from the small workshop at the raised voices, in complete disbelief. He tried to intervene.
Janine sneered at the cut-down, ignoring the occultist. "Or something."
From there the invective got really heated, volleys of personal attacks and barely tangential incidents thought forgotten. As the logic became more tenuous, their volume increased. Winston came running down the stairs.
"Were you feeling guilty having him on the side? Did you think I'd go along with it?!"
Peter gaped for a moment, before launching in with his own savage comments.
Winston looked at Ray, completely at a loss of how to end this.
"You're fired!"
"You can't fire me! I quit!" The fight coursed on ever more fiercely.
"What is going on down here?" Egon stood imperious, hair wet and hanging down onto his unbuttoned shirt. It got everyone's attention.
"Peter." Egon said the name like a command, turning and climbing the stairs barefoot. Peter shot a last withering glance at Janine before following.
Egon escorted Peter to the lab, shutting the door on him before Peter could protest. When Egon stepped into the lab, his shirt was buttoned and tucked in properly and his hair up as it belonged. "I expected better, Peter."
Peter looked apoplectic. "She hit you!"
"And I said that things were settled."
Peter punctured the patronizing posture. "You thought the same thing after you told her."
Egon deflated. "Did she start it?"
"When she did that." Peter pointed at Egon's jaw. He halted the attempted rebuttal. "That's starting something in my book."
"Peter." Resigned, Egon realized a certain humor in the situation. "I'm touched at you defending my honor. Touched as you are for picking a fight with Janine." Egon overlooked Peter's snort. "You are, however, going to have to apologize."
Peter went wide-eyed. "You've got to be kidding! After everything she's done?"
"Though felicitous, it would be would be fallacious to expect her to be calmer. I myself made this erroneous assumption." He frowned.
Peter wasn't mollified. "Like you asked for that?"
"Please, Peter." Egon surveyed his words, and found them lacking for the application. He closed the space between them, stroking just the tips of his fingers over the dark hair.
"Spengs." Peter had looped an arm around Egon to pull him into a hug.
"Apparently I did, when I rebuked her for that comment to you."
"You..."
Egon quirked an eyebrow at the halt.
Peter had the good grace to look sheepish. "Great minds think alike?
Egon gave him a sideways glance. "She interpreted it as me dictating her emotions. My next move was poorly chosen."
Peter could just imagine. "You know, I don't need any help making an ass out of myself." Peter stared down the incipient comment on Egon's lips. "So--, just how did you tell Janine we were together?"
"I simply let her know we were seeing each other."
"Did you just blurt that out?" It was all falling into place, giving Peter a sinking sensation.
"The meaning seemed self-evident. I did have to clarify that I meant romantically."
Peter knocked his forehead repeatedly against Egon's solid shoulder. Egon looked down perplexed. Peter looked up, shaking his head.
"I'm not the only one that needs to apologize to Janine."
Janine glared as Egon and Peter headed upstairs, then roughly pulled open the desk drawer that held her purse.
"Janine."
She turned on the red-haired Ghostbuster. "Don't Janine me. I can't believe any of this. I can't believe that," she pointed at the stairs, "and I can't believe you. Laughing it up while I'm oblivious to what happens here after dark. I thought you were my friends!"
Ray gently moved the tissue box towards her. Winston stood still for a moment longer and then headed upstairs. Janine was oblivious to the overture.
"What the hell does he see in Peter? Man changes girlfriends more often than socks! Can't even ask me out and he goes tumbling when Peter runs out of flavor of the week."
"Does that really sound like either of them?" Ray waited for some sort of response, getting only silence. "Or does it just make it easier to be angry?"
"I shouldn't have been the last to know. Damn it." She plucked one of the tissues out, dabbing at the eyeliner that was starting to escape. "Peter. Why the hell Peter?" She looked around, her anger no longer sufficient focus.
Ray lifted the box to her. "Would this really be easier if it wasn't Peter?"
Janine started to speak, closing her mouth without a word. She repeated the process a second, and then a third time. "Okay, probably not. I still should have been told."
Ray mulled for a moment. "They didn't tell us."
Janine looked at Ray confused.
"We told them."
"You what?"
"We let them know we knew." Ray held his ground waiting for the possible fury. The silence worried him more. "I don't know why it worked out that way. All I know is that Peter was taken aback, and Winston's not handling it that well either."
"You should have told me." She threw the smeared tissues at the desk top.
Ray looked at Janine contrite. "You know we couldn't." Grudgingly, she nodded. "You okay?"
"I'm still angry." Janine mused for a moment. "Thanks, Ray."
"We'll see you tomorrow?" Ray put his hand up. "Peter wasn't speaking for the rest of us. Do you really want to quit?"
Janine shook her head. She smiled back at Ray, before opening her purse for her compact. Assessing the damage, she started repairs. "I can take care of myself."
Ray nodded and headed upstairs.
Ray looked at Winston standing against one of the chairs in the living room. "Want to talk about it?"
Winston turned. "No." Winston turned away and then back to Ray. "Why is this so easy for you?"
Ray looked puzzled. "This isn't easy. Janine is upset, I don't know what is going on with you and Peter is reminding me of Miss Russell's cat."
The last broke through. "Cat?"
"She had a lot of rocking chairs. What is your problem?"
Winston looked away, tension in his shoulders. "It's just not right."
"Were you going to say something?" The words were remarkably even.
Winston spun around, startled by Peter's voice. Beyond him in the doorway, stood Egon. Winston squared himself, as if to let his convictions hang in their own testimony.
Peter fought to stay calm. Ignoring Winston for a moment, he focused on Ray. "Janine--" He'd been vicious.
"I talked to her. She's still upset..."
Peter nodded in acknowledgement. "We'll handle it." Peter glanced at Egon. Marshalling his cool, he faced the newest situation. "Now, Winston..."
Winston stood his ground.
It was an effort to stay calm. "You want to elaborate on how it's not right?"
"It just isn't. You don't just suddenly go playing for the other team."
Peter nodded. "It occur to you that maybe it's more than just sex?"
Winston's eyes went wide as his mouth pulled thin.
"Didn't. Maybe you should think about that." He bit the words out, in an effort not to panic. Peter paused for a long moment. "Look, I couldn't figure out how to say something. So I'm not expecting this to suddenly make sense."
Winston pondered the words, finally nodding warily.
Ray waited, the lull stretching as no one spoke.
"Good." Peter's facade flickered.
Dinner passed quietly before each slipped off to their seperate pursuits. Ray returned to his project downstairs, and Peter puttered about his office before heading up to the lab with some reading material. It was hours later when Egon finally stood from the workbench. He looked over at Peter holding one of his psychology journals, stretched out on the couch. He walked over, aware he hadn't heard a page turn in some time.
"Peter. It's time to turn in."
Peter slowly looked up from the unseen page. Unvoiced questions sought silent answers. His eyes dropped to the offered hand. Peter put his left into it, pulling himself from the couch.
They crossed from the lab to the former guest room, Egon pushing shut the door. "There's something you want to say." Peter prepared to speak and then started getting ready for bed. Egon followed suit.
Pajama-clad, Peter slipped into bed, sitting upright under the covers. He waited until Egon was similarly ensconced. "So, why didn't anything happen between you and Janine?" The jaunty tone was strained.
Egon sighed as he reached around Peter. "Attractive as the possibility, I was never confident I could be whom she thought I was."
Peter turned toward Egon, brittle with questions.
"I was flattered by her attentions, and wary about disappointing them. Hard as it may be for you to believe, I am aware of my limits. Living up to Janine's idealized image... I did a poor job telling her?" The last was given as an answer.
"Spengs. Watergate was a little publicity problem. Yeah. Not that I won any awards." Peter looked rueful. "So, how do we dig ourselves out?"
Egon turned slightly. "I was going to ask you that."
The small door pushed open, Janine stepping through. Determining no one was lying in wait, she strode over to her desk. Janine shed her coat and stowed her purse before slipping into her chair. Janine sat for a moment before plunging into her work. This was the busy season for her too, and nothing had done itself on her 'vacation' day. It just better not be counted against her allotment.
Janine was going full steam with the stapler as the stairs creaked slightly. A voice clearing cough and then a 'Yo' were needed to get her attention. She looked up to see Egon and Peter, both looking slightly uncomfortable.
"If you're ganging up, I'm out of here."
Egon spoke from his spot halfway between the stairs and her desk. "It's rather more in the way of an apology."
"Yeah. I came down to see he didn't botch it. Okay, and to say I'm sorry too." Once he stopped fidgeting, Peter appeared earnestly contrite.
"And I should listen because?" The silence was unexpected, as was more than six feet of physicist looking like nothing more than a five year old once the sugar bowl had been noticed missing.
"Um, I'm going to leave you to it." Peter gave a small rub to Egon's back and turned back up the stairs. "Play nice."
Janine shook her head in exasperation. "And that's the winning contestant?"
"Janine." Egon took a breath to start on another tack. He approached the desk and ducked into Peter's office for a chair. Folding into it, he spoke again. "Janine. I'd like you, for the moment, to separate your opinions of Peter from the fact of my new relationship."
Janine looked at him warily. "Okay..."
"Thank you. I suppose the place to start is at the beginning. You're very different from the women I've known. Your, reactions to me have been flattering and flustering. No one has looked at me and seen what you have. I'd be falsifying findings if I denied that it was attractive. Janine, I couldn't be who you wanted." He raised his hand at the still unvoiced 'Egon' on her lips. "I wanted to be. For short moments I even considered it possible. But.... I'm very sorry."
"But-" She didn't continue. The past couldn't be redone. "What about Peter?"
"Peter knows me better than sometimes I do myself." Egon paused in thought. "Some would consider that he brings out the worst in me." He was clearly lost in memory. "Very occassionally they may be right." His mouth formed a moue. "On the whole, we counterbalance each other quite well. I don't foresee that changing."
"But Peter?!"
Egon smiled gently as he got up.
Janine was still trying to wrap her mind around Egon's words when Peter plopped into the chair.
"If we took this into my office we could complete the 'getting sent to the Principal' motif." Peter smiled nervously. "Look, I'm sorry about what I said. Just that bruise... Not that it excuses anything, just-- He really asked for it?"
Janine shallowly nodded. "What the hell were you thinking?"
Peter looked at her in confusion.
"Was egging me on some sort of coping mechanism? Distancing yourself."
Peter struggled to keep his composure. "I'm the psychologist, thank you, Miss Melnitz. Nooo." He looked around and leaned closer. "I honestly thought he needed a little push. I know, a blow that the magnificent Dr. Venkman could miss a diagnosis." He dropped a hand on her shoulder in a open-faced hug. "Are you going to be okay?"
"I still don't get it. You'd think knowing you these years would breed contempt." Janine shrugged out of grasp. "Why now?"
Peter just waggled his head. Even a year ago he'd have ran so fast. A wry smile spread across his face.
"Do you think you could drive more quietly, Peter?" Egon looked back down at his notes and filled in another number.
Ray laughed as Peter instead lambasted yet another motorist and laid on the horn. He glanced worriedly at Winston riding shotgun. He hadn't put up even a word of dissent when Peter had started up Ecto that morning. Like the day before, Winston had been completely diligent. And no more. Finally there was no more time to contemplate either Winston or Peter. They were at the next bust.
"I say we let them tush push the two-steppers." Peter scowled at the Country-themed marque.
Winston ran out from the cover, blasting away at the looming cloud of office supplies. "How's about we sign this in triplicate?"
Two other beams shot out. Moments later, Ray threw the connected traps, screwdriver still clenched in his teeth. The encircling fans of light controlled the fallout trajectories as the animating force was sucked out of the spinning stationery. Mostly.
Peter brushed away a festoon of computer paper. "Aren't they supposed to shred this stuff before the parade?"
Winston exhaled. "Let's float on out of here before your ego goes airborne." He went to help Ray gather the mass of traps. "And, Peter"
"Yeah?"
"I'm driving. You're a menace."
Ray snickered. Peter stood silent at the "ingratitude", before tossing the keys to Winston.
Ecto pulled into the dark firehouse, Janine's shift long ended. The guys piled out, quickly starting on unloading the packs and traps. There was a sense, of uncertain anticipation as they finally headed upstairs into the kitchen.
Egon reached into the cabinet for plates as Winston pulled white boxes from the bag. Ray stood back as Peter grabbed beverages and then glasses. Peter looked at his unusually still friend.
"What's wrong, Tex?"
Ray didn't answer Peter, instead looking at Winston.
He looked away briefly before turning to face all the others, Egon having stepped around the table. "I'm going to have to say it baldfaced." There was just the barest trace of resignation in his words. "This has taken me by surprise, and I've not behaved as I'd wish. I don't understand it, and I've figured out that I don't have to. You're still my friends, still the same people. Just took me longer to figure that out." There was an undercurrent of self-reproach in the words as he met Ray's eyes.
Ray smiled.
"Okay, if the lovefeast is over, I'm starved." Peter hesistated for only a second before plunging into his chair and hitching it closer to the table.
Winston laughed, shaking his head, while Egon looked at Peter with his patented reproach. Boxes were passed as the four digged in, talking animatedly.
Finis
Frameless?
More Fiction