Gifts
Peter pulled the front door to the firehouse shut and flipped the bolt home. Ray's cab would get him to the airport in plenty of time. He smiled ruefully to himself. Not having Ray home for Christmas would be weird, but they'd make up for it al New year when he got back from his stay with his aunt.
Not having Winston either, well, that didn't help any but his family had been hinting for months about the size of the Zeddemore reunion, and the vital importance to its perfection of a certain famous Ghostbuster. There were a lot of young nieces, nephews and cousins who were determined to grow up to be the next generation of dashing defense against supernatural bad guys, and they'd be gutted if they couldn't spend the next two days hanging on Winston's every word; not to mention his arms, legs, back and any extra limbs he might grow. He'd complained good-naturedly about the hassle of being the favored climbing post of all his relative's kids, but Peter knew he was going to love every minute.They'll probably make him play Santa, he thought happily. Wonder if I can persuade his mom to send me some pictures? Musing on the blackmail possibilities therein, he climbed the stairs to the TV room, and settled comfortably on the sofa to consider the problem that had been occupying him for weeks.
His problem was currently ensconced in the lab—again—working on whatever it was genius level physicists with a unique day job worked on the day before Christmas. Peter had suggested a little last minute gift shopping, only to be informed that some people had completed their present buying a month back. So, looking suitably disgusted at this revelation of hitherto unimagined levels of anal organization, he had ventured out alone into the frenzied crowds to track down an exquisitely embarrassing gift for Janine. The real gift would be kept in reserve for pacification purposes, and Peter suspected he'd get a kiss on the cheek when she saw it, assuming she didn't strangle him with the thong panties first. The presents were not the problem. Egon's present wasn't the problem. Egon, however, was.
He had been looking at Peter strangely for months now, and Peter was very aware of it. Hyper aware. Sometimes, he noticed things even he didn't notice, it that made any sense. He was also aware that Egon was doing a masterful job of hiding it. Ray, Winston, even Janine, had noticed nothing different. Slimer—well, who knew? Distracted, Peter glanced about, but the bane of his life was nowhere to be seen. All the extra food turning up in the trash after pre-holiday season parties had made the spud a scarce commodity about the firehouse for a good fortnight. Peter almost missed him. Almost!
Peter switched the TV to something seasonal, leaving the volume low, and thought it over again. It was an idea. Perhaps not the best idea, but since it was the only one he'd been able to come up with, it was the front runner in a field of one.Okay, he thought, why not? It might go horribly wrong, but maybe Santa will be good to me and give us both a big Christmas bonus. Maybe.
Decision made, he yawned, hit the off button on the remote and headed for bed, delivering a sleepy, "good night," to the engrossed man in the lab as he went.
Christmas day was fading into night when Peter decided that D-Day had arrived. It had been nice, no doubt about it. He and Egon had exchanged gifts, and Janine had dropped by on her way to the Melnitz family 'do', and had only threatened Peter with slow dismemberment on receiving the joke gift. He'd gotten the anticipated kiss when she saw the necklace all four of them had picked out and bought between them—it was a beautiful antique, and less than she deserved for all they'd put her through. As she had vocally noted in an attempt to hide her delight.The evening was winding down comfortably when Peter decided it was now or never. He nudged Egon gently with his elbow, causing the tall man to nearly slosh mulled wine onto the couch.
"Peter, you could perhaps try speech as a means of communication."
You're one to champion the simple approach, Peter thought, and stood up. "I have another present for you," he announced casually.
Egon looked confused. "Another? At this time? Isn't it usual to exchange gifts in the morning?"
"This is a special present. The timing has to be just right. It's in the guest room."
"Oh! Well, then, that's very kind of you. I—what is it?" Egon looked interested now, and Peter just knew he was imagining a new toy for the lab, perhaps something he and Ray had been trying to persuade their thrifty financial officer of the necessity of for months.
He rolled his eyes and said, "Patience, Egon. Five minutes, okay? Then you can come up."
Egon agreed, looking mildly frustrated at the short delay, and Peter headed to the spare room, managing to appear relaxed and nonchalant.
When he reached the guest room, he did very little. Switched on the side light, giving the room a warm glow, switched off the overhead to make it cosier, and sat down on the edge of the bed and tried to compose himself. Four minutes later he had gotten his breathing under control when there was a quiet knock at the door."C'mon in, Egon," he called, and his friend entered, looking curiously about for his gift.
Egon paused, looking lost. "Peter? Where is it? Don't tell me you've planned a treasure hunt—it is Christmas, not Easter, I believe."
"It's right here," Peter replied in a soft tenor. Egon hesitated a moment and then just looked at him; slowly realization dawned, and a warm flush spread over his fine features. He just stood and stared, until Peter gathered all his courage and got up, crossing the room and closing the space between them.
"Here?" Egon echoed, sounding utterly astounded, his bass voice shaking minutely.
"Here," Peter confirmed, and taking a long hand in his, lifted it and spread the fingers to place it flat against his chest, right over his heart.
There was a long pause, overflowing with silent communication, green eyes looking deeply into blue. In short order, all the necessary information was exchanged.
A slow, sweet smiled lifted the corner of Egon's mouth as hope became certainty. "Happy Christmas, Doctor Venkman," he murmured, and leaned in to share a first kiss warmer than any chestnut-roasting fire."So," Peter finally managed. "Wanna unwrap your gift now?"