Danger and Disaster

Egon Spengler raised his head to study the beeping monitors. The same. He could hear the struggle for breath issuing from the man lying unconscious on the bed. Every so often very soft sounds of distress would issue from the man’s lips--if someone hadn’t been listening closely they would have missed the subtle sounds, but Egon was listening very carefully and each time he detected the sounds he winced in sympathy.

Unconsciously, he rubbed his hands through his disheveled blond hair and sighed. His eyes were so fatigued that his vision had begun to blur around the edges, but leaving the bedside wasn’t an option. Egon carefully laid an old book on the bedside table as he removed his eyeglasses and began to polish them absent-mindedly on his shirtsleeve.

Twelve hours and I still don’t have a clue what that bitch did to you. Egon shoved the glasses back into place. Once again he could see and he looked down at the man located in the hospital bed that he had been sitting beside for hours on end. Dark shadows had formed under the eyes and the skin was much too pale. Occasionally the slim body would tremble, but that was the only movement that the body exhibited.

Egon shifted on the uncomfortable seat as he stared at the familiar features, while his tired mind once again began to reconsider past events which had contributed to the current dilemma.

 

Egon Spengler had learned from a young age to be self-reliant; it was a long, hard lesson learned during a childhood spent with a father who shunned emotions in favor of reason and rationality.

It hadn’t been an idyllic childhood, to say the least.

He was finally given a forum to share his opinions and emotions when he met Peter Venkman in college--the man who would become his best friend and subsequently so much more. The physicist would always treasure the memory of his first glimpse of the charismatic man back in college.

It had occurred while he was searching for an obscure research book at the library. While fruitlessly searching through the dusty stacks, he had overheard a group of people laughing boisterously and a wave of envy had overtaken him. He had always wanted to be included in a group, but Egon’s college career to date had not provided him with many opportunities to make friends. He had hoped that college would be different; it had come to signify his last attempt to escape the machinations of his father’s ambition--to turn him into the perfect Spengler, whatever that was. All that he was sure of was his heartfelt belief that meeting his father’s expectations would force him to eventually become as emotionally vacant as his father. Egon knew that he wanted to be more than that; he just wasn’t sure how to accomplish that goal yet.

Egon rationalized that his lack of close friends was due to the fact that his fellow students thought that he was unfriendly and unapproachable. His frequent use of multisyllabic words made them feel inferior; the reality was that he found it difficult to simplify his explanations, so that others could follow his complex thought processes. He had also had few opportunities to engage in small talk as a child, so he found it difficult to join in the campus activities. Once again his intellect was isolating him from others and he couldn’t seem to find a way to escape the solitude that had always surrounded him.

When he had chosen to attend Columbia, he had hoped to meet people that would respect his intellect and want to become friends. So far, the only time other students sought his company was when they were forming a study group, if they needed a tutor or when someone wanted a lab partner. Egon had soon resigned himself to a college life where his only escape from his academic pursuits would be through novels and an occasional trip to the opera.

Maybe some people were destined to be alone, he concluded as he shoved a book back onto the shelf. I’m just one of them.

Through a gap in the shelves, Egon’s blue eyes alit on a young man who seemed to be holding court in the library. He was sitting on a table, with his feet propped up on a chair as the other students gathered around him--some were standing and some were sitting at his feet listening to his story. I would surmise that he never has to deal with overwhelming feelings of isolation, Egon reasoned as he stared at the scene before him. The other students all seemed to hang on his every word. Extravagant hand gestures punctuated his remarks and many members of the crowd were smiling, almost fawningly, up at the young man.

Several people were unconsciously touching him--one girl was rubbing his arm while another young woman was leaning against his leg and Egon instantly perceived the attraction. There was a magnetism about the dark haired man, an irresistible force that even Egon found himself responding to. He quickly walked out from behind the shelf to better observe the scene, as he cleared his throat and fiddled with his sliding glasses.

Egon was too far away to make out the words of the man’s amusing anecdote, but suddenly vivid green eyes seemed to focus in on him--lit with intellect and impish humor. At his first unobstructed view of the dark haired man, he felt his pulse rate increase. The man was stunningly handsome in Egon’s opinion--with wavy brown hair that he just longed to run his fingers through and eyes that were the pure green of malachite. Even across the substantial distance, Egon noticed the luminous quality to the emerald eyes. He was stunned by the overwhelming feelings of desire that coursed through his body as his hungry gaze studied the handsome face and body that sat before him. He felt frozen under the other man’s intent inspection, as his breath seemed to catch in his throat.

At the age of twenty, Egon had never been physically attracted to another human being with any intense, overwhelming feelings. He had come to the conclusion that this lack must be attributed to a flaw in his psychological makeup--being surrounded by emotionally inhibited adults had resulted in his maturation into a person who was incapable of intimacy.

My reaction to this dark haired man are proving that theory incorrect, Egon mused as his eyes studied every contour of the stranger before him. He felt as if he could drown in the waves of desire that were overtaking him, making breathing a conscious effort. Scenarios involving himself and this fascinating individual, naked and sweaty, were filling his mind. Egon was stunned by his instant attraction to the charismatic stranger.

The man smiled knowingly and Egon felt himself blush. He knows, Egon realized as he stared into the intent eyes. The gaze was broken when another young man called out and the knowing green eyes turned to see where the sound emanated from.

Egon ducked behind the shelves while the man’s head was averted. He needed to think about what he had seen and felt in that one incredible moment. Egon had witnessed enough, even in the few second that their gazes had locked to recognize a kindred spirit. The eyes seemed to hold sadness and a desperation quickly suppressed behind a camouflaging of sardonic amusement. Egon had been intrigued by the glimpse of the real person behind the confident mask and he found himself vowing to get to know the other man better, somehow.

Little did Egon know that this would occur, when both men were assigned to be partners for a parapsychology research project.

 

Fifteen years returned in a rush as Egon’s worried eyes focused on the beloved features. Ethereal. He looks ethereal and fragile, Egon decided as his hand inadvertently reached out to stroke the silky brown hair. Egon took comfort from the heat radiating off the man’s skin. The skin felt unnaturally hot and when his hand slid down the hair to stroke a soft cheek he could feel the warmth emanating from the skin. But heat was better than the alternative, Egon concluded as his fingers began to trace the slightly parted lips. Anger seemed to erupt in his veins as he felt the soft breath flutter on his palm.

“It isn’t fair! I should be the one lying here. You shouldn’t have to pay for my arrogance and ignorance!” Egon felt tears forming in his eyes; he held his breath and clenched his hands as he tried to force the emotion back into their proper place. Now isn’t the time to indulge in bouts of self-pity and emotional release. Peter needs me, as he never has before.

Winston and Ray away at the parapsychology convention. Egon was left to find the solution on his own, and time was running out. Egon glared at the defenseless book, lying on the bedside table for several seconds before he picked it up and threw it across the room. You’d probably be proud that I’m not suppressing my anger, Peter. The release seemed to make him feel better and he looked around for something else to throw. The plastic water pitcher was next, followed by the plastic cups still wrapped in the protective plastic coating. Egon was looking around for more ammunition when his digital watch chimed.

Thirty-five hours left. It’s impossible. I’ll never find a cure to that megalomaniac’s sick revenge before the time runs out. Shudders began to rock the slim frame of the physicist as he collapsed onto the bed. Peter didn’t respond in any way, he just continued to lie there. Egon leaned down and gently gathered the man in his arms until Peter’s head was resting on his shoulder.

I will find someone qualified to help me and I will find an antidote Peter, Egon vowed as he cradled the unresponsive body in his arms. I will get you back; I have to get you back.... I don’t know if I could continue to exist without you in my life. Egon closed his eyes, as he tried to banish the image of his life without Peter from his mind. That was why Elizabeth had done this. Her ultimate revenge on me will be to destroy the thing that I value more than anything else--you. I will not let that happen!

 

“What are you grinning about?” Peter asked, as Egon put down the phone on the coffee table.

Raising a single eyebrow was his unspoken command to Peter to remove his feet from the couch so that Egon had room to sit down. Peter moaned as he made room for the physicist.

Egon was in such a good mood that he reached down and placed Peter’s stocking feet on his lap and began to massage one of them. Peter's groan of gratitude was enough thanks for Egon. He handed over the box of pecan turtles with a flourish and handed then to the psychologist. Peter’s childlike grin was enough thanks for the gesture, but when Peter looked up and smiled at him, Egon remembered why he had always found the sometimes exasperating man so hard to stay mad at. The unconsciously charming smile was the reason Egon and many others found the psychologist irresistible.

“That call was from Columbia University. Dr. Knisely just called and asked me to be on the hiring committee for the new dean of the Physicts Department.” Egon sighed in satisfaction. For him, the call symbolized the fact that the learned community was finally acknowledging and respecting the Ghostbusters work in physics. “I also just had the most remarkable lunch with Dr. Elizabeth Singleton. Remember her? She and I shared a friendly competition for grades in college, and she was also acquaintance of Raymond’s?”

“Oh, yeah. I remember her,” Peter murmured as he chewed contentedly on a piece of the chocolate candy--his favorite. “Dark hair, big boobs. You ended up winning that competition if I remember correctly, right?” When Egon nodded, Peter continued, “She became some kind of biochemist, who works for the government. What a scary concept that is.” Peter shivered dramatically as he reached for another chocolate.

Egon shook his head, when Peter offered him a candy. He was too full from lunch to be tempted by the sticky treats. He was also having too much fun watching Peter devour the candy. Peter was still recovering from a  persistent virus. Egon was glad to see him eating something; he had lost a considerable amount of weight--the illness had left him with little desire for food.

“She was always all over me like a tick on a deer. I hadn’t seen that much drooling since I watched a demonstration of Pavlov’s work with conditioned responses." Peter stopped chewing and stared thoughtfully at the dark television screen.

Egon smiled indulgently; Peter often tried to hide his remarkable intellectual capacity from strangers, but he never disguised it around Egon. Egon always enjoyed observing that remarkable intellect being utilized.

“Quite frankly, and I am not being sarcastic about this--that woman despised you! Especially when Ray implied that we were a couple. He did it so she’d stop stalking me, but it probably would have been better if he hadn’t clued her in. It did help her finally realize that she didn’t stand a chance with me, but the way she glared at you after that gave me the creeps, big guy. If looks could kill, you’d be pushing up the daisies right now.”

Egon snorted in amusement as switched feet and began to massage the other foot. He glanced up and was startled by the grim expression in Peter’s eyes. He’s serious, Egon decided as his eyes locked on Peter’s serious green gaze.  “You can be a remarkably astute observer, Peter. It is what makes you so gifted in your profession.” Egon smiled in satisfaction when Peter blushed. “But...you do have an ego bigger than Ellis Island. Isn’t it possible that in this instance you misread the situation?” Even as the words left his mouth, Egon could feel how incorrect they were. Egon looked down at his busy hands as he pondered the psychologist’s revelations.  Peter was never wrong about people’s nature, he seemed to possess an innate ability to understand people and their motives. Egon stopped the massage as he continued to ponder the implications of Peter’s remarks. “Why would she invite me to lunch if she hated me that much?” Egon murmured aloud.

Peter put the candy box on the coffee table when he noticed the box was trembling slightly in his grasp. What the heck, I thought I was finally getting better!  Peter studied his trembling appendage covertly--turned it so that he could study the phenomenon as he answered Egon. “Lucritia Borgia had no problem inviting people she hated to lunch. They’d talk, laugh and then she’d slip a little poison in their soup. The conversations got a little one-sided after that." Peter lowered his hand and grinned at Egon as he chuckled in amusement.

“I didn’t have soup. I had a Caesar Salad, Peter.” The sarcastic tone was belied by the grin that Egon couldn’t repress.

Peter whistled as he used his hand to do an imitation of a target being shot from the sky. “Another brilliant theory from the great mind of Peter Venkman shot down in a blaze of glory. Woosh.” Peter shifted on the cushions as he tried to alleviate the lethargy that was suddenly overtaking his limbs. “I really wish you would have told me about this before you accepted that invitation, Egon. I’m still too sick to have gone with ya, but I hate being left out of the loop. Stop coddling me! Being sick doesn’t mean that I need to be wrapped in cotton for cripes sakes.”

“I would have, but you were asleep.” Egon winced; Peter’s rarely utilized serious tone could make Egon feel like a naughty child. “Besides, nothing happened. I’m fine.” Egon looked up from his intent study of his hands and noticed that Peter looked unwell.

When Egon had first entered the room, Peter’s cheeks had been pale. Now they were flushed with fever and Peter’s hair looked damp with perspiration. “Peter! All of this pointless conjecturing with me has made you overtax yourself. You should have told me that you still weren’t feeling well.” Egon reached out and slapped the cover onto the chocolate box. “Eating these chocolates was most assuredly not a good idea...Peter?”

But Peter wasn’t listening to Egon. He was squinting his eyes as he attempted to clear away the fog that seemed to be obscuring his vision. Peter soon noticed that his hearing was also impaired; Egon’s voice sounded strangely distant. Maybe it’s a relapse, Peter decided as he leaned back onto his pillow and closed his eyes. Forming words was difficult, but Peter forced them out.  “Phone’s...ringing. "

Egon reached out and grabbed the phone and pushed the button as he leaned over Peter and felt the fever blazing off of his skin. “Egon Spengler,”  Egon stated into the phone as he rose to get Peter an aspirin.

“Hello, Egon.” A female voice purred into the receiver.  “That magnificent man of yours doesn’t sound at all well. Maybe you should call a doctor for him.”

Egon almost dropped the phone as he recognized the voice.  “Elizabeth? H-how did you know that Peter was unwell?” Even as Egon asked the question his mind raced through possible answers to his query. A shiver ran down his spine as Peter’s words registered in his frantic mind. Lucretia Borgia. Poison. “Oh, god! What did you do!!!," Egon shouted into the phone.

“It’s quite simple, darling. Working for the government can really come in handy sometimes--great health benefits, a wonderful salary and access to all sorts of drugs and electronic toys. I knew that those candies were Peter’s favorite and I gambled on the fact that you would give them to him. As usual, I was right."

Egon’s hand clutched the phone tightly against his ear as he listened in fascinated horror to the explanation. “The receiver that I placed in your jacket pocket let me know just when to call and let you in on my little...prank.” The woman’s mocking laughter made Egon’s blood freeze in his veins; she sounded completely unhinged just as Peter had implied. “So, tell me. How does it feel, Egon? To know that you were the instrument that I employed to obliterate Peter, hmm?”

What have I done. What have I done!!!  The words were being screamed inside Egon’s mind as his hands shook in rage. “Why?” he whispered into the phone; he purposely used an emotionless tone. He had done enough without giving her the satisfaction of hearing the pain in his voice. His right hand began to search through the pockets of his sport coat, until he located the small receiver hidden there.

“You’re such a gullible fool, Egon. You should listen to Peter when he warns you about someone--he’s actually quite astute. Of course that will be his last warning, poor darling. It disturbs me to have to destroy that wonderfully ingenious mind, but sometimes the innocent have to suffer to properly punish the guilty. You always thought that you were better than me but now I will prove to the world who has the superior intellect. But I am rather...fond...of Peter, so I am presenting you with the opportunity to save that gorgeous man of yours. You will have exactly forty-eight hours to find the antidote to the poison that is ravaging through his beautiful body and if you can locate it, he will be fine. You win again. But if you don’t, he will die a slow painful death. And you will be alone...like me.”

Egon felt his legs tremble and he gripped the edge of a doorframe to keep himself upright. He used a breathing technique that he had learned, in a yoga class that Peter had practically dragged him to, to calm his heart rate as he processed the shocking news. Egon’s mind was racing, but he deliberately tried to modulate his voice. Giving that bitch the satisfaction of hearing distress in his voice would add another victory to her mental tally sheet. “ Let me see if I comprehend your challenge correctly. There is a cure for this toxin; I just need to find it in order to save Peter?”

“Yes. Or you could just take a running leap off of the Brooklyn Bridge; after that, I’d happily see to it that Peter was given the cure. Are you game?”

“No. Enjoy your small victory while you can, Dr. Singleton. I will not loose this challenge to some sexually frustrated half-wit with a security clearance.” Egon felt the rage erupting from his heart into the rest of his body as he deliberately dropped the electronic device onto the floor and stamped on it. He smiled in satisfaction as he heard it crunch under his foot. “I advise you to locate a nice hole to crawl into, because when I have dealt with your little challenge I intend to find you and consign you to the most dark and dank part of the Netherworld that I can find. That is a promise from Dr. Egon Cyrus Spengler!”

Egon pushed the off key with satisfaction. He immediately hit the send key and began to dial 911 as he made his way back to Peter. Peter’s arms were wrapped around his stomach and his mouth was tightly clenched. Egon gently pushed several strands of damp hair away from Peter’s eyes. Green eyes, full of agony, opened as Peter tried to focus on the man bent over him. "I’m in deep shit...aren’t I? You always said that my sweet tooth would get me into trouble.” Peter looked up into the troubled blue eyes and tried to grin. “The chocolates, eh?” He had overheard enough of the conversation to understand what had happened.

“Yes. You were right. She didn’t poison my soup, she poisoned the candy. Which I gave to you. ” Egon tucked the blanket more securely around Peter as he answered the operator’s request. “Medical.” As the operator connected him, Egon leaned closer to Peter and kissed his cheek before pressing his own cheek against the hot skin.

Peter’s hand wrapped around the long fingers of Egon’s right hand as he whispered, “She did this, not YOU. If I see you...blaming yourself for this, I will...kick your ass!"

Egon closed his eyes as he nuzzled his face closer to Peter’s neck. “Yes, Dr. Venkman.”

 

Egon’s hands unconsciously clenched a blanket tightly as he remembered the mocking laughter that he had heard emanating from the cell phone’s receiver. He immediately called Ray and Winston; the conference was being held at UCLA which would make it difficult for them to return home quickly. Egon knew that Winston was on the net trying to find someone who knew Elizabeth or someone who worked with her as he waited for the airport to find them a flight. Ray was frantically calling anyone who knew the scientist, hoping one of them could produce a cure for the biological weapon that was slowly destroying Peter.

He was grateful for their devotion for Peter, but he knew that it might not be enough. Egon also intended to consult someone else, but before he could implement his plan, Janine needed to set up the equipment to his specifications. That left him with time on his hands and he was using it to stay near Peter--guarding him. Peter was now deeply unconscious, but Egon wouldn’t leave his side until he had to.

As he sat by the bed, holding Peter’s hand, he was implementing stage two of his plan--to exact his revenge on the deranged woman who had dared to hurt Peter. “Slimer, this is very important. Both Peter and I are counting on you.”

Both Egon and Slimer had been by Peter’s bedside since he had been admitted--the nursing staff was not too happy about Slimer’s presence, but they were used to it. He was almost as devoted to Peter as Egon was. Egon freed one of his hands and reached into his jacket pocket. He then handed Slimer a crumpled tissue and the entity nodded eagerly. The tissue was a special one since Dr. Singleton had given it to Egon during their lunch. He had used it to wipe his glasses before he placed it absentmindedly into his pocket. He had intended to throw it out, but as usual he had forgotten. Never had Egon been so grateful for his forgetful tendencies as he was now.

“Follow the scent on that and find the woman. You have my permission to scare her, slime her, make her life a living hell until I arrive and send her to the Netherworld. Can you do that, Slimer?”

Slimer's face wrinkled in concentration before it melted--a hideous continence emerged from the gelatinous blob; vicious teeth and claws glittered in the artificial light of the room. “Bad lady make Petaw sick! Sca’ bad lady!” Slimer announced before he disappeared through a wall, leaving behind a slimy residue on the mint green paint.

“No, Elizabeth.” Egon growled out, through clenched teeth. “I may not be able to find the solution on my own, but I do know where to find help from someone who loves Peter as much as I do. Together, we will save him. And then you will face the consequences of your actions.”

Egon wasn’t sure that Peter would approve of any of his plans, but he didn’t care.  “Desperate situations call for desperate measures, you taught me that.” Egon rubbed Peter’s arm gently as he heard the cell phone ring.  It must be Janine. That means that everything is finally ready. Egon leaned down and kissed Peter’s lips before he stood up and walked out of the room. It was time for stage three of the plan.

 

In another universe, Egon Spengler, physicist and resident genius glared down at the metal objects that he was currently fiddling with and gnashed his teeth together. Even with a doctorate under his belt, he couldn’t seem to detach one paper clip from the tangled bunch. He was beginning to get...aggravated. His latest paper lay before him, waiting to be mailed. It would be sent on its way as soon as he untangled one of the metal clasps to secure the papers together in the envelope.

“Maybe Ray could get that?” A soft tenor murmured from behind him. The unexpected voice startled Egon and the clips leapt from his hands and sailed across the lab to land...somewhere.

“Perfect.” Egon whispered in a soft, precise voice.  “Just perfect. I have devoted fifteen minutes to undoing just one of those metal monstrosities and not only did I not accomplish that simple task, but now I’m not even sure where they landed.” Egon ripped his eyeglasses off of his face and began to wipe them with a corner of his lab coat.

“The problem with you hard-science types is that you never look for simple solutions.” Peter grinned as an icy blue gaze was directed at him. “Hey! Slime bucket!" Peter yelled out.

An instant later, a green entity oozed through a wall and stopped in front of Peter. Large orange eyes gazed with adoration on the entity’s favorite ghostbuster. "Aye-Yii, Petaw,” Slimer garbled out.

“Slimer, Dr. Spengler just told me that he would buy you a whole pizza with the works if you could help him to locate his missing paper clips.”

"Ok, Petaw” Slimer saluted the man before he zoomed out of the room.

“Perhaps you should have mentioned that the paper clips were located within the confines of this room, Dr. Venkman?”

“Ya think?” Peter shook his head in bemusement before he walked over toward the couch. As he gracefully collapsed into the soft cushions, he grimaced. Reaching a hand under himself, he withdrew the metal clips that were now bent as well as firmly attached. "I found ‘em. Ya still want ‘em?”

Egon studied the deformed objects sitting on Peter’s opened palm. “Absolutely not. I will stop at the convenience store on the street and purchase another package.” Egon slowly slid off the lab stood and stretched out his fatigued muscles before he walked over to the couch. As Egon gingerly sat on the other end of the couch, he heaved a regretful sigh. Sitting this close to Peter on the lab’s couch was difficult. It always reminded him of the alternate universe and the unexpected kiss that Peter had bestowed on him--which he had eagerly returned. The opportunity to express his love for his best friend physically had occurred when Egon had visited a parallel dimension. The other dimension had been so similar to his that Egon had never realized that it was different, until several pleasurable days had passed. In that universe, Egon and Peter were lovers and when Peter had begun to make love to him, Egon had been a willing participant.

Initially, he didn’t realize that he was making love to the wrong man. It was Peter who had finally picked up on the inconsistencies between the two men. He had assisted Egon by returning him to his world and his friends. Egon had been happy to return where he belonged, to the people who loved him.  But a part of him still longed to make love again to his best friend. Egon had always found the psychologist physically attractive, but he had learned to suppress his feelings when he got to know the other man better. Peter loved women. Egon had decided that he would never risk losing that friendship to satisfy his body’s physical craving--to claim the man, to get as close to him as he possibly could. Being friends with the extraordinary man was satisfying enough; Egon had resigned himself to a future without physical intimacy, since the idea of being involved with anyone except Peter had become distasteful to him once he recognized his feelings.

The first thing that he had done, once he had returned from the unexpected trip to the alternate universe was to place the dangerous spellbook that had transported him there, into a holding compartment of the containment unit. Now no one else would ever inadvertently get sent there, as he had.

The next thing that he did was to studiously avoid any physical contact with the psychologist. He had accomplished this task by locking himself into his lab using his paper as an excuse. He had known that the retreat was temporary, that Peter would soon confront him when he noticed the avoidance strategies. It looked like that time had finally come.

“Besides sitting on the paper clips, did I do something wrong?” A hesitant voice inquired. “It seems like every time I get near you, you take off. I dismissed it as coincidence at first, but...it isn’t."

Egon looked into the troubled green gaze and was dismayed by the intense feelings of hesitancy and sadness that were reflected back at him. I’m responsible for that pain, Egon concluded. And it isn’t even his fault. How could he even begin to fathom that something so profound happened to me, in what only seemed like seconds to him. Maybe it didn’t even happen.  Maybe the spell induced hallucinations, or...whatever. Regardless, he shouldn’t suffer because I am overwhelmed with the impulse to run my hands over his supple body and kiss him until the need for oxygen overcomes our need for each other.

“I’m sorry I’ve just been working through some issues that arose in the other dimension." Peter's grin made Egon retort, “I really was in another dimension, Peter. I know that you think it was just a hallucination that occurred while I was unconscious, but it wasn't. It was real.” Egon got up and walked out of the lab as Peter hurried after him.

Peter caught up with Egon in the kitchen, where Egon was slamming the doors of the cupboards as he looked for the Twinkies that he had asked Janine to buy him. “Woah, there cowboy. Calm down. I believe that you believe it, Egon. Isn’t that enough?" Peter grabbed Egon’s chin and turned his face toward him.

Egon glared into the green eyes, and Peter smiled gently. “Sometimes I wonder why a skeptic like you ever signed up for a parapsychology course; you never believe in anything until it comes up to you and taps you on the shoulder.”

“I see that some things are universal. Peter’s skepticism is one of them.” A bass voice emanated from behind Egon. Egon registered Peter’s widened eyes and slack jaw as he turned to identify the unknown, yet familiar voice. His eyes beheld...himself...standing at the bottom of the spiral stairs. The man looked exhausted--he was using the railing to support his sagging body. Peter ran to the man’s side and helped him to sit on the stairs as the two men continued to stare at each other.

“Something happened to him, didn’t it?” Egon asked as he noticed the worry and desperation in the man’s red-rimmed eyes. It was easy to recognize the emotions since the man that he was looking at was in fact himself.

“Yes. And I’ve come here because I need your help if I am going to save him.” The other man was leaning heavily on Peter in order to stay upright.

Obviously the trip through the dimensional portal was as taxing on him as it was on me, Egon surmised as he walked over and assisted Peter. They helped the man to stand and make his way to the couch. When the physicist was safely positioned on the cushions, Peter volunteered to get the man a glass of water. Egon used Peter’s absence to ask the questions that were flooding his mind. “Is Peter dead?” He asked hesitantly.

His double winced as he heard the question. “No, he’s not dead. But he soon will be if we fail him. I will tell you everything that occurred and show you the sample I brought with me--- as soon as this blasted dizziness has passed.”

Egon’s legs grew too weak to hold him and he sank down next to the other man. The shock of hearing that Peter was sick made Egon tremble. Part of him had fallen in love with the alternate version of Peter--not the way that he loved his best friend but in another, unique way. Egon folded his shaking hands as he leaned back and waited for the other man to recover.

 

“Somehow, I knew I’d find one of you down here,” the sleepy voice drawled as Peter walked into the kitchen to retrieve a mug. As he sat down at the table Egon picked up the pan and filled his cup with hot chocolate. Peter smiled in gratitude as he put the pot back on the pot holder.

“I found myself unable to sleep,” Egon muttered as he removed his glasses and rubbed at redden eyes. “I should be working, formulating a solution to this dilemma. Peter is relying on me. I don’t deserve to sleep.”

Even his duplicate tends to think that he is the cause of any misfortune that comes my way, Peter surmised as he quietly watched the man seated across from him. Egon was so tired that his shoulders were drooped with exhaustion as if he didn’t have the reserve of energy needed to hold them up.

Peter sighed and rotated his own stiff shoulders. He had been on the phone since Egon had finished shared his story, while the two scientists analyzed the blood sample in the lab. They had even called the hospital and sent them a sample of the blood, hoping that someone would find a cure for the poison. So far, no one had any success. Even old college friends of Peter’s were unable to share any information about the infamous toxin. They had finally taken a break from the frantic research at midnight.  Peter had decided that they all needed to sleep and come at the problem when they were refreshed and able to think more clearly. Both physicists had put up a token protest but they followed his advice. Egon always listened to Peter when his edicts were based on common sense.

It was now around four o’clock and although Peter was exhausted he couldn’t get his body to go back to sleep. He had come downstairs, a nagging intuition informing him that he was needed. Over the years of their exposure to psi and paranormal energies the team members had begun to exhibit some psychic abilities. The combination of that intuition and his close friendship with Egon also allowed the two men to have an understanding of each other that included the ability to sense when the other needed to talk. Usually the talks occurred over midnight cocoa sessions.

It looked like this one would be a predawn conversation. It wasn’t really his friend, but Peter felt compelled to help the desperate man. “How long does he have?”

When Egon heard the softly voiced question he closed his eyes for several seconds as he tried to organize his answer. When he opened them, he noticed that Peter was now kneeling beside his chair. “She said forty-eight hours. But...she could be lying.” Peter gently extracted the glasses from Egon’s grasp and slid them back into place and his handsome face came into focus. Egon involuntarily reached out a hand and rubbed it down the smooth cheek. “That leaves me with only sixteen hours hours left, by my calculations, to find a cure and expediently give it to his doctors.”

Peter reached up and clasped the hand, which was now absently carding through his hair. He held it in his grasp and squeezed it reassuringly. “You're an intelligent and sensitive man, Egon. But sometimes your as dense as a brick.”

“Whaaa?”

“Did you two geniuses ever think that you're going about finding the solution from the wrong angle? I mean—you're smart---but you're not a biochemist. No matter how many experts you consult and how many tests you do on the blood, it isn’t your field of expertise.”

Egon looked into the solemn green eyes and gasped out, ”But I have to try something! The poison is slowly stealing away his life. I will not just sit back and watch her steal him away from me.” Egon’s voice shook with emotion as his blue eyes pleaded for understanding.

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. You hard-science types always look for convoluted solutions instead of looking for simple ones.” Peter stood gracefully and reached out for a kitchen chair. Once it was positioned close to Egon he continued, “Well, let me help. Maybe my knowledge is what’s needed to solve this." Peter slid into the convenient chair never letting go of Egon’s hand as he maneuvered into the seat. Egon seemed to need the physical contact to maintain his control over his pent up emotions.

“Now, you said that Ray still knew this bitch, right?” Egon nodded his head in confirmation as he stared at Peter over the rims of his sliding lenses. “Well, maybe he knows her in this universe too. From the little that I’ve overheard of your conversations with my Egon, there do seem to be a lot of similarities between our planes of existence. So, if he knows her here, maybe yours truly could meet up with her. Peter sighed regretfully when he noticed that his mug of chocolate was empty. Covertly, he reached across the table with his free hand to snag Egon’s cup of hot chocolate. “If she has the good taste to lust after my gorgeous bod when we meet, it will make it that much easier for me to manipulate her. I’ll use some of  the techniques that dear ol’ dadums taught me while he bounced me on his knee.” Peter took a sip of the chocolate as he watched the physicist’s reaction to his proposal. “Maybe she will know about this poison and before you can say 'wham bam thank you Petey’ she’ll be telling me about the antidote as I whisper sweet nothings in her ear.” Peter cockily leaned back in the chair as he smiled at the other man.

“I would never make any statement that began with the word wham, Dr. Venkman.” Egon grimaced as he said the word and Peter chuckled at the mock outrage in the physicist’s tone. He looks a lot better than when I first came in here, Peter decided as he sighed in satisfaction and placed the empty mug on the table. “And I would never ask you to expose yourself to the risks inherent to your scenario.” Egon let go of Peter’s hand so that he could use the both of his hands to grip Peter’s upper arms and draw the man closer to him. When their faces were mere inches apart, Egon whispered. ”You aren’t my Peter and yet I can’t help loving you. It seems that in any universe you can still stun me with the depth of your sensitivity, intelligence and love."

“I offered, you didn’t ask.” Peter felt transfixed by the cobalt blue eyes that seemed to mesmerize him. He recognized the concern and love roiling in them, but there was another emotion that he was unused to seeing in the familiar gaze. He unconsciously leaned closer as gentle lips descended on his in a warm kiss. Peter sat, bemused and stunned as the sensations from the warm lips on his flooded his mind. When he felt Egon’s tongue trace his lips, he opened them. The moist tongue traced over his teeth before it stroked his palate. It was gentle and loving and Peter sighed in disappointment when it ended.

Egon drew back, and gasped in surprise. "I’m sorry, Peter. I shouldn’t have done that.” Egon noticed that Peter seemed stunned, almost frozen in shock. He had taken advantage of the situation and he needed to rectify it immediately. "You are so like him and...I love him so much. I guess I momentarily forget that you aren’t my Peter. My lover is in a hospital bed and you belong to someone else.” Egon forced his hands to let go of the tempting body in his embrace.

Peter sat back and began to trace a pattern on the mug in front of him with his finger as he registered the blond man’s words. Lover. He said lover. No wonder Egon was so freaked out when he came back from his little vacation in their universe.

The kiss had been surprisingly pleasant. Peter stopped tracing the mug as his hand unconsciously crept toward his face. He traced over his lips with the finger as he realized that the other man was still talking; “...will you get in contact with Raymond, to find out if he knows Elizabeth?”

Peter whipped the offending hand away from his face as gathered his scattered thoughts and concentrated on what Egon had asked. “I could call him on Winston’s cell phone. Zed got drafted--he’s at the science fiction convention too.” Peter grimaced theatrically as he explained, "If he knows the woman, then we can set something up.” Peter rose to his feet and reached a hand to the other man. He then pulled Egon to his feet and began to push him toward the direction of the guestroom. “Meanwhile, you are gonna at least try to get some shut eye. Humor Dr. Venkman and pretend that you're listening to my good advice. You need your shut eye.” Peter ushered a reluctant Egon toward the guest room. “You're gonna need to be in top condition to go through the gate tomorrow-- that trip seems to do a number on people. You need to be in top form before I’ll let you attempt it.”

Egon turned abruptly and embraced Peter. Peter pulled the thin body close to him as Egon buried his face beside Peter’s neck and inhaled Peter’s unique scent. The smell and the feeling of the warm body helped to comfort him a little. “Thank you.” the muffled words warmed Peter, like a blanket as he held the other man for several seconds. Egon pulled out of the embrace and walked into the room and closed the door. Peter stared at the wood for several seconds.

Lovers! Jeez, there are some big differences after all! Peter rubbed a tired hand through his disheveled hair as he analyzed his reaction to the discovery and the kiss. He hadn’t found the kiss repellent, just the opposite in fact. The question was, why hadn’t Egon mentioned this little tidbit when he had told Peter about the other universe?

Peter began to walk rapidly toward the stairs, switching on the lights as he made his way into his office--his special place. He needed the comfortable environment around him while he pondered the information he had garnered from an unsuspecting physicist. Could he possibly have not known about this? Did it disgust him, and he didn’t want to hurt my feelings by mentioning it? Or was it something else?

Peter sat in the chair and put his feet up on his desk as he dialed Winston’s number. “Sprint calling, would you like to change your long distance company, sir?” Peter listened quietly to the irate response to his question. “No, it’s not important Winston. I just called to sing Ray a lullaby before he goes to sleep. Put him on, would ya?” Peter settled comfortably in the chair as he heard Winston giving Ray the phone. “Hey, sleeping beauty. Sorry to wake ya, it’s even later over here. We’ve got a situation here. I’ll explain all, but first things first. Do you know a biochemist by the name of Elizabeth Singleton?” Peter listened intently as he settled himself further into the ancient leather chair. “You do! Swell.” Peter tucked the phone between his ear and his neck so that his hands were free. He opened a drawer in his desk as he listened to Ray. Maybe things are finally going our way, Peter concluded as he searched through the stacks of papers on his desk frantically trying to locate his favorite pen.

 

Egon sighed and sat up. It’s no use; I can’t sleep. He adjusted the pillow so that he could lean against the headboard as he sat up. Reaching for his eyeglasses on the nightstand, he felt his muscles ache in protest. Once the glasses were in place, he settled down against the pillow and tucked the blankets more securely around his body. His arms ached, but he knew that it wasn't fatigue. He had become accustomed to holding Peter throughout the night. Alone, in a strange bed, he felt the loss more acutely.

Being with the other version of Peter wasn’t helping either. He was so similar to the man that he loved that Egon had almost forgotten that it wasn’t him. When their lips had met, Egon’s body had urged him to deepen the kiss while his mind screamed in protest. There were differences. His Peter was much more affectionate and confident than this Peter was. There was a weariness and a sadness in this man’s eyes that he had never seen adorn his lover’s face. The temptation was to enfold the man in his arms and kiss him until he was breathless, but Egon would never betray his lover that way. Also, he would never betray the other physicist’s trust.

Egon squirmed; the mattress was unfamiliar and he longed to be at home in his own bed, with Peter. As he adjusted the pillow yet again, he considered his observations during the brief kiss that he had given Peter. He was sure that the psychologist been shocked by the quick peck on the lips. Therefore the question was why had he been so stunned by a simple kiss?

Egon closed his eyes and visualized the man’s reactions. It could have been shock--that a virtual stranger would take such a liberty. But it had seemed to be more than that, more complex. Egon’s eyes shot opened as he considered a new possibility; maybe the two men in this universe had never become lovers. It sounded far-fetched, but reasonable. Egon settled back against his pillow as he considered his options. After several hours of deliberation, he finally decided to carefully observe the two men and assist them if they were having trouble exposing their feelings to each other.

If I cannot save the man that I love, at least I can see to it that I assist his double if the two men desire each other and want to be together. Just call me Dr. Ruth.

Egon wearily dragged himself out of the bed and went in search of sustenance. The sun was finally rising, and he didn’t intend to loose another minute of time finding a cure for Peter.

 

“I feel ridiculous!”, Egon muttered as he untangled himself from the flowing robe that had become entangled, yet again, around his legs.

"Well, at least your legs are covered,” Peter retorted as his eyes scanned the crowd of people milling around them. “I feel like the cheerleader who walked into the convention for Viagra patients...sheesh!” Peter tugged at the hem of the tartan, trying to make it cover more of his exposed legs. "Ray mentioned that this thing was adjustable; with two physicists to adjust it, I think it could’ve been draped so that my tush wasn’t exposed any time I have to bend over.… Does it?”

“Certainly not!” Both Egons answered in unison. They shared a conspiratorial glance before both men continued to make their way through the crowd. It hadn’t been a coincidence that Peter had been assigned the Scottish kilt costume from Ray’s collection. Both men were taking great delight in covertly observing Peter striking appearance in the highlander outfit. They had each tried to convince the reluctant man to go commando---for the sake of authenticity.

Peter disagreed.

The wizard’s hat began to slide off of Egon’s head, but Peter caught it before it could fall off and positioned it back in place. "I told ya, you should have used hair pins. That’s how Merlin did it; you never saw him with his hat sliding off every time he moved his head.”

Peter’s eyes traveled over Egon, surveying him adorned in a royal blue robe and pointed wizard’s hat. He should have looked ridiculous--yet Egon carried off the look with the same aplomb that he always exhibited. The color of the outfit also emphasized his eyes, and Peter noticed that many women were admiring his oblivious friend.

“Yes, I think that I remember reading about that in White’s stories. ‘Leave Excalibur alone, Arthur, and come over here and pin up my hat!’" Egon’s sardonic comment made the men chuckle. But it was a strained laughter, since they were all aware of the time passing.

The other Egon had chosen to dress as a monk--with the hood covering his head it was almost impossible to see his features. Peter had suggested the costume, so that no one would ever see two Egon’s and begin to ask unanswerable questions. “Now, You're sure that Dr. Singleton will be here?” The voice asked skeptically from the folds of the monk costume. “I just cannot believe that the Elizabeth I know would frequent a place like...this?!”

“When I talked to Ray, he mentioned that she was a medieval groupie. She’s always at these faires, so he was sure that we’d find her here. These things are actually kinds fun.” Peter moved aside to let a man dressed in armor pass by.

“But...I don’t see why Egon and I had to wear these costumes though,” he grumbled.

“Well, it would have looked odd to be part of a group with only one member bedecked in authentic wear of the period. It would have drawn her attention to the other Egon and that might have been detrimental to our purpose.” Egon fidgeted with the sleeves of his wizard’s costume as he answered the question. He leaned down to untangle his robe from around his legs yet again.

Lying to Peter always bothered him. That explanation hadn’t technically been a lie but he had omitted telling his friend that he had chosen the highlander costume for Peter because he took vicarious enjoyment in witnessing his friend in the outfit. It was a sight that would fuel many future fantasies, Egon was sure.

He stopped to glare at a young woman who was gazing at Peter hungrily. When she made eye contact with him, he used the look he often used on Slimer. It was just as effective on bimbos, Egon decided as the woman scurried away. He smiled in satisfaction.

“There she is!” The monk cried out as he pointed toward a woman dressed as a serving wench. “She’s over by the jousting field, near the booth selling Celtic jewelry.” The men all looked over toward the dark haired woman who was flirting with the vendor.

Both Egons looked beseechingly toward Peter. Finding her had been the easy part. Getting her to reveal the antidote to the poison that she had used would be up to Peter. He stiffened his shoulders and took a deep breath. “No sweat. Once I lay on the Venkman charm, she’ll be eating out of my hand.” Peter smiled reassuringly toward the two men, while nervousness assaulted his system. He was actually quite anxious about his chances of success.

The other Elizabeth supposedly had been madly in love with the other Peter, but that didn’t necessarily mean that this woman would feel the same way about him. After all, in the other universe Egon was in love with Peter and his Egon didn’t have romantic feelings toward him. It demonstrated to Peter that there were great variations in the alternate realities, and that made him nervous about the possibility for success. Not that he’d reveal his unease to the alternate Egon; the poor guy had enough on his plate to worry about without Peter adding to it.

“Are you sure you can handle this, Peter?” His friend’s concerned voice helped to bolster Peter’s confidence.

“Yeahsureyabetcha,” Peter muttered. “Here goes nothin’.” Peter began to swagger over toward the unsuspecting woman, ready to lay on the charm. She was an attractive looking woman, tall with long dark hair. Peter found it hard to comprehend, even with his training, that this woman’s obsession for an unattainable man could have turned her into an unstable lunatic.

As Peter drew closer, the woman turned around. When she noticed him, a hunger seemed to ignite in her blue eyes as they traveled over Peter’s body. He felt himself shiver under the atavistic gaze. “Well, hello there, my bonnie laddie.” Before Peter could even mutter a reply, the woman had an arm draped possessively over his shoulder. “And who might ya be?”

The smile on Peter’s face became strained as he felt the hand begin to slide slowly down his back. He fought the almost overwhelming urge to retreat from the woman’s predatory eagerness. A shiver ran through his body as she leaned closer.

Christ, this broad is mentally undressing me right here, he decided. He looked across the crowd into concerned blue eyes. Egon looked capable of charging over and throwing the woman into the nearby trough to cool down her ardor. The amusing thought relaxed Peter and he was able to respond. "I’m William Wallace, m’ lady.”

He bowed with a flourish as he said the name. When he had straightened up, the woman leaned closer and whispered in his ear. “Really. Maybe you can help me?" she whispered huskily.

“I will try, m’lady.” Peter answered hesitantly as a viselike grip secured his right arm and began to lead him away from the concession stands, down a crowded path. Peter glanced around nervously as they entered the milling crowd as he lost sight of the two physicists, who were his bodyguards.

“I’ve always wondered about something, William.”

Peter picked up on the smell emanating from the woman’s mouth. Someone’s been hitting the Honey Mead booth, Peter surmised as he looked into her eyes.

“Do real Scots wear anything under their kilts?” She purred as a curious hand traveled up his leg to investigate. Peter yelped and jumped away before the hand could reach any intimate areas.

“M’lady. Ya gotta give us wee Scots the chance to initiate things." He smiled at the woman as he picked up a discarded cup of mead someone had left beside one of the benches that were scattered intermittently throughout the fairground. “Let’s discuss this over a wee drink, shall we?” Flirting is dangerous with this particular female, Peter decided as she eagerly drank the beverage that he had handed her. Liquor will be quicker.

Although Peter flirted with just about everything with two x chromosomes, he was actually a very reserved man when it came to physical intimacy. He did brag to the other teammates about his many conquests, but that was all for show. He was actually very selective about the women that he slept with; Egon probably knew, but Peter had never revealed his belief system about intimacy to another person, not even his best friend.

“Let me get you some more mead and we can get to know each other.” Peter gestured toward a nearby bench, conveniently close to where a man was passing out mead to passers by. “I like to get to know a woman very well before I let her touch my um’…tartan.” Peter sighed in resignation as he clutched the woman’s wandering hand in a tight grasp. “So, what’s your name?”

The woman hiccupped before she responded, "Just call me...Liz, babe.”

 

After several more servings of mead and several intercepted attempts to grope, Peter had stirred the conversation into an area that he needed to hear about.

Getting the loquacious woman to talk about herself had proven to be rather simple; Peter had always been good a good listener. He seemed to always innately enjoy learning about people; observing the things they said and taking note of the things that they didn’t say. His love of people watching had led him to choose psychology as his major in college. The challenge of manipulating this woman into revealing some relevant information was one that he had accepted eagerly. Peter was deeply worried about the troubled physicist’s mental stress levels; it had made him volunteer for this somewhat awkward adventure.

He had intended to seduce the woman, to sweep her off of her feet with gallantry and ready wit. Now the challenge had transformed into the effort to keep her conscious and upright, so that they could continue the conversation. It would be tempting to let the woman fall flat on her face in the mud, but Peter would never do that. His mother had brought him up to always be respectful toward woman. Besides, she wasn’t the one that had caused the excruciating worry in Egon-- that had been another woman. Peter concluded that the woman before him was in need of the address of the nearest AA meeting, but she didn’t seem evil.

“And tha’s why I became a bioch...emist, Petey.” Liz’s voice was now slurred from the excessive amounts of alcohol that she had imbibed.

“Jeez, you look way too good to be a biochemist, Liz.” Peter caught the drooping woman and pulled her closer to his body, when it began to look like she would fall off the seat. “And I will remind you again...don’t call me Petey, ok?” he stated as he positioned her more securely between his body and the back of the seat. She giggled and snuggled closer to Peter’s body resting her head on his shoulder as she gazed adoringly into his eyes...or where she thought his eyes were.

“I was watching this show on PBS, that Mystery series; a friend of mine is addicted to it. And they had this one show about this woman, who was obsessed with this unattainable, gorgeous and witty guy. The problem was that he was madly in love...with another guy whom she just happened to hate. Pretty melodramatic, eh? Anyway, she got back at the guy that she hated by poisoning the first guy--the one that she thought that she was in love with.” Peter stopped to catch his breath.

He had decided to abandon being subtle; she probably wouldn’t be awake long enough to be subtle. “But, get this, she poisons the first guy and then gloats about what she did to the other poor schmuck. She used this undetectable poison that would kill the guy within forty-eight hours. Hey, Liz wake up. Can you believe that far-fetched story? Sheesh. Who writes that crap?”

Liz blinked her eyes, making a visible effort to stay alert before she answered Peter. “Actually it’s not that far fetched, Petey. We have a drug that we’re developing for the government called AJ57; we’re developing it as a secret weapon and it’s quick and virtually undetectable. Easy enough to cure, if you know it’s there. Shhhhh. That’s a secret. I’ll have to kill you if you tell anyo....”Liz closed her eyes and loud snores began to issue from her scarlet lips.

“You almost did, honey. You almost did.” Peter eased his shoulder out from under the sleeping woman who gently slipped onto the seat of the bench, deeply unconscious.

 

Peter walked into the lab and saw Egon standing in front of the portal that was set to return him to the parallel dimension. The electronic components hummed softly as the machine warmed up. The alternate Egon was fidgeting, rubbing his palms on his pants legs and actually pacing--all behaviors that were atypical for the phlegmatic man. Either he is very close to a nervous breakdown over all this or that’s another one of the subtle changes between him and my friend, Peter mused as he studied the man.

Peter walked over to the man and stood in his path to catch his attention. “Egon went to get the direction setting gizmo; Ray was working on it in his basement workshop the last time we saw it.” Peter shrugged as he smiled gently. “It could take him some time to find the damn thing in that cluttered mess. Ray. He’s a major pack rat, but we love ‘im in any dimension he’s in.”

Egon smiled gently as he began to pace around the room again; he couldn’t seem to stand still. Every moment wasted was another moment closer to the dreaded deadline. He forced himself to respond to Peter, hoping the man would distract him as effectively as the other man always had. "And there's another variable that is consistent in this dimension. But not everything is the same, is it Peter?”

Blue eyes suddenly focused on him and Peter found himself trapped under an intense, knowing scrutiny. He felt himself being drawn into deep pools of blue as he stared into Egon’s eyes. “No, not everything is the same,” Peter confirmed.

Egon nodded his comprehension of the situation. “I made the erroneous assumption that we are lovers in this universe. I am sorry if my mistake made you feel uncomfortable, Peter.”

Peter reached out to embrace the man. At first, Egon hesitantly return the hug but he pulled Peter closer after several seconds. Peter tilted his head up so that his mouth was close to the physicist’s ear as he whispered, “Your love could never make me feel uncomfortable, Egon. I was just taken by surprise, that’s all.”

Peter reluctantly removed himself from the comforting warmth. Being in the blond man’s embrace had seemed so right and it startled him and he needed the distance to assess his feelings and reactions. “Is it good--the two of you together, I mean?”

Peter noticed that Egon was biting his lip as he constructed his response. Egon seemed to stare off into space as he answered. “It’s a symbiotic relationship, where we have learned to share everything and provide support for each other when it’s needed.” Egon squinted in concentration, as he stared at the tableau that only he could see. “Maybe we are too close, if that’s possible. I feel as if I will die too if he doesn’t awaken from the coma.”

A visible shudder passed over the slim frame as Egon contemplated the possibility of a life without Peter by his side. “We fight, we worry, we love each other. I have never felt so...complete in my life.” Egon looked up into green eyes, wide with shock and awe. “No matter what the outcome is, I would never trade a minute of my time with that remarkable man to spare myself the potentially agonizing pain that the loss would inflict."

Peter quietly nodded, as he assessed the answer to his question. Ideas swirled through his mind as he considered the connotations that his knowledge could have on his relationship with his best friend.

“He's in love with you, you know.” The deep voice penetrated the fog that seemed to be enveloping Peter’s thought process.

Peter blinked in surprise and thought about the implications in that remark. “I think it’s always been there. Hell, neither of us has ever been in a steady relationship with a woman for longer than a couple of months.” Peter shrugged and continued, ”Who needs someone else when I have all of that love and support from Egon; I guess I’ve avoided any of that because I never wanted to mess all this up.”

Egon continued to study Peter, as he seemed to analyze what Peter was admitting. He smiled gently. “You know, you're not Charles Venkman and you have nothing to prove to him. You don’t have to get married and win a father of the year award to prove that you aren’t him. You're his polar opposite, Peter.” Egon gripped Peter’s shoulders in a gentle grip as he lightly shook him. “He’s waited patiently for fifteen years, for you to work through your inhibitions. Don’t you think that it’s about time that the both of you had a long talk, or will you wait for a major disaster to occur and destroy Egon and your potential for true happiness?”

Peter felt his cheeks flush as he registered the words and their implications. Peter knew that the man was correct, but part of him feared revealing his burgeoning feelings of desire for his best friend. Part of his fear was caused by the old bugaboo--his inability to let anyone get too close, but another part of his hesitancy was caused by his fear of ruining one of the best relationships in his life. Peter knew that he was a high maintenance person--would Egon stand up to the challenge of loving him, insecurities and all?

As Peter raised his head, he saw the answer in the loving gaze directed at him from behind red spectacles. If this Egon and Peter could handle everything, maybe it will work for us. “I will talk to him, when the time is right.” Peter squirmed out of the addictive embrace before he continued, “When I do tell him, I...guess I want everything to be just right. Mushy, ha?”

Egon smiled and shook his head. ”No. Just another facet to the remarkable personality that is Peter Venkman. I will admit that you have numerous flaws, but I love every one of them because they are all an aspect of the remarkable person that you...um, he is. Whatever.”

Both men smiled gently as Egon entered the room. He stopped to survey the scene. He could pick up on a vibe that he couldn’t identify between Peter and the other man. Egon felt a surge of jealousy overtake him. He had hated to leave the room even to get the needed control device, because it had meant leaving Egon alone. It is insane to be jealous...of myself, Egon theorized as he observed the two men. The other Egon is eager to return home with the information that he will share with Peter’s doctors and I feel more than eager to return this man to his home. 

One reason for the eagerness was his concern for the other Peter--Egon had fallen in love with the man and he was deeply concerned about his welfare. Another part of his mind also acknowledged that he was also concerned that this man would reveal too much to Peter and endanger the friendship that was as essential to him as air. “Well, everything looks ready. You should be able to cross over with minimal risk within the next few minutes.” Egon turned on  the portal, which glowed in the dark room like a beacon.

“Yes. Before I go, I would like to thank the both of you again. I could have never found an antidote in time without your assistance.” Egon reached out and shook Peter’s hand first. Then he turned to face his mirror image. He surprised Egon when he reached out and hugged the startled physicist, wrapping him in a warm embrace. As the two men hugged, the other man used the opportunity to whisper in Egon’s ear. “I know about everything; I know that you love him, too. Thank you for getting him back for me."

He broke away from the embrace and walked quickly into the glowing light, never looking back as he disappeared.

The two men stood in front of the portal, transfixed by the softly glowing light. Peter turned toward the man at his side. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed the way the blond hair glowed in the artificial light; it looked like a halo. The urge to reach out and stroke the silky hair dominated his mind, but he ignored the impulse. He wouldn’t rush this, it was too important to both of them.

"Do you think that everything is going to be all right for him?” Peter pointed his chin toward the light to emphasize who he was.

“We may never know.” Egon and Peter walked side by side as they both left the room.

 

Peter reached out and wiped the bathroom mirror, which had become fogged up from the steam of his long shower. Nervous green eyes were reflected back at him as he dried his body off and wrapped the bath towel around himself. He could feel his stomach churn as he pondered his strategy. Part of him was eager to abandon the impulsive plan and let life continue in the same comfortable manner that it always had.

“When did you become such a wuss, Venkman. You can tell off a dangerous demon but suddenly you don’t have the backbone to follow your heart?” It was a desperate idea, but Peter knew that he would never be able to sit down and discuss his feelings with Egon. He had always been a man who let his actions speak for him--hopefully, his methods would communicate his feelings to the physicist.

Peter studied his reflection in the mirror and winced when he noticed the unruly curls that were forming in his wet hair. He began to carefully comb them into place as he pondered his contradictory urges. When he was satisfied with the results he sighed and squared his shoulders before he opened the door of the bathroom and walked out into the colder air of the hallway.

Egon was sitting on his bed, bent over his laptop computer, typing furiously. Peter stopped momentarily in the doorway and studied the man; he noticed that Egon’s hair was still damp from his recent shower. Egon had also donned the jogging pants and t-shirt that Peter had given him for Christmas. Peter smiled ruefully and shook his head. In some ways Peter and Egon were total opposites--Egon’s tolerance for cold weather was one of those differences. Peter shivered as he walked over to the side of his bed and cleared his throat.

Egon was so busy typing that he didn’t look up from the screen. “Peter, these readings are...fascinating! I spent some time on the phone with a colleague of mine, Samuel Beckett. He and I both believe that there are an infinite number of universes that form and develop based on our decisions and experiences; thereby causing the formation of so called alternate realities. He e-mailed me some material and.…” Egon’s voice trained off as he looked up and noticed that Peter was only wearing a peach towel around his waist. A very small towel. His smooth skin seemed to glow in the soft light cast by the reading lamp by Egon’s bed. Egon’s eyes scrutinized the exposed flesh, as arousal seemed to overheat his body. “Is everything all right?” His eyes gazed at the perfect skin, exposed before him.

“Yeah,” Peter shrugged as he continued. “So, is this the info your friend sent?”

The ability to breathe became an effort and Egon could feel his heart rate increase when Peter sat on the edge of the bed. Peter leaned closer to him, so that he could read the miniature screen allowing Egon the opportunity to detect the faint smell of mint emanating from Peter’s damp hair; his befuddled brain automatically identified it as the psychologist’s favorite brand of shampoo. He averted his face, so that the observant eyes wouldn’t notice his flushed cheeks.

Calm down, Egon. Just picture him in a snow parka and everything will be fine. A snow parka...with nothing on under it but warm, soft flesh just waiting...h’m, maybe another image would be fortuitous.  When he had his breathing under control, Egon turned his head and found himself looking deep into luminous emerald eyes.

Peter nudged him with a shoulder as he grinned, “Is that the nut case who wanted to build a time machine? I always thought that friend was two sandwiches short of a picnic.”

“Nutcase, Peter? Is that the accepted term, nowadays?” Egon lifted an amused eyebrow before he continued. "Yes, Samuel does have an interest in time travel, but his main area of expertise is quantum physics.” Egon decided to enjoy the sensation of being this close to his almost naked friend while he had the opportunity. I could delude myself into believing that his current actions indicate an unconscious desire to be near me, Egon surmised. It’s ok to lie to myself. I’ve been through a lot today. “He’s a remarkably intelligent man, and you shouldn’t throw stones about levels of eccentricity, since we do chase ghosts for a living.”

“Good point, Spengs.” Peter sighed dramatically as he continued. “There are still some people who think that our business is nothing but a scam anyway.” Peter looked into the blue eyes and tried to read the emotions in them. He could see desire warring with fear. He was right, Peter concluded as he continued to look into the incredibly blue eyes. This man is in love with me; whether he knows that or not is another story.

Egon cleared his throat and pushed his eyeglasses back into place as he continued to stare into the green eyes. “Peter, I think you’d be warmer if you put something more substantial on.” Egon’s fingers tightened around the laptop, as he fought the urge to touch the inviting flesh, so temptingly close to him. He could feel the heat radiating from the other body, sitting beside him. “You must be cold, in that rather...damp towel.”

“Another good point. You're on a roll tonight, big guy." Peter reached down and loosened the towel. It slid off of him as he slowly stood. “Jeez, would you look at those goose bumps; you’d think we didn’t have any heat on if you looked at me.” Peter spread his arms wide as he gestured down at himself.

Oh, I’m looking, Egon concluded as he leaned back to enjoy the unobstructed view of the handsome man standing before him. I will not look there. I will not look there...Holy Hannah. It’s like looking at a sculpture of a Greek god. Egon felt red-hot desire course through his bloodstream as he continued to enjoy the opportunity to study his naked friend. He had seen Peter naked before, but never this close or for this long.

The laptop slid, unnoticed, off of the bed when Peter sat back down on the comforter. He leaned close to the physicist as he reached for Egon’s glasses with a trembling hand. He slid them off the long nose until they were clasped in his hand. That task finished, he reached out and pulled Egon’s t-shirt out of his jogging pants and proceeded to use the edge of the shirt to wipe the lenses. “Your glasses are getting steamed up,” Peter murmured as he slowly wiped the lenses. “Let me help you out there, Spengs.”

Egon sat, frozen in shock, as Peter’s hand brushed up against the skin of his stomach; it tingled when it came into contact with Peter’s skin. He couldn’t begin to comprehend what was going on. A shiver of desire raced up his spine. “Peter?” Egon whispered in an unsteady voice.

Peter smiled mischievously as he slid the glasses into place. He leaned closer until Egon could feel his warm breath on his face. “I wanted you to be able to see everything that you do to me, Egon.” Peter gestured toward his body and Egon gasped. Peter’s arousal was evident now.

Egon could hear his heart pounding as he grated out, “Are you sure this is right, Peter? We have been such good friends for so long. What if this interferes with that?”

“Nothing could interfere with our friendship," the husky tone of Peter’s voice made Egon shiver involuntarily as he listened. “If this is wrong, then we will at least have some pleasant memories of mind blowing sex and the satisfaction of knowing that we tried.” Peter moved closer and kissed the full lips before he drew back. “That is, if you want me.”

Egon surged forward with a savage growl and grabbed Peter’s upper arms as he captured the tempting lips. The warm lips parted beneath his and Egon accepted the opportunity to deepen the kiss. He moaned as he>got his first taste of Peter’s sweet mouth. Egon used his body weight to push Peter back, until Egon was lying on top of him. The whole time, Egon kept his mouth on Peter’s to continue the incredible kiss.

When Peter had settled comfortably on the sheets, Egon straddled his body. He felt Peter’s hands in his hair as he used his own hands to slim over the soft flesh, memorizing every curve and dip in the silky smooth texture. Egon’s focus receded until it only contained the extraordinary body beneath his and the arousal that pulsed through his body. He reached up and pulled his t-shirt over his head. He separated his mouth from the psychologist’s to lift the material over his head. In his haste, his glasses were knocked out of position. Egon adjusted them as Peter’s hands began to tug down his jogging pants.

Egon grasped the hands and held them in place as he looked deep into Peter’s enraptured gaze. "Are you sure? Once you do that, I don’t know if I will be able to stop.”

Peter answered by wriggling his hands out of Egon’s tight grip, and reached into the waistband of Egon’s pants, and tugging down the pants and briefs at the same time. Wiggling out of the confining material was a pleasant experience for Egon, with Peter’s naked body beneath him. He threw the clothes on the floor, and as he stopped to catch his breath, Egon smiled in satisfaction.

A disturbing thought penetrated Egon’s mind and he couldn’t dismiss the idea once it formed. "Are you making love to me...or to him, Peter?” He could feel his cheeks turning red with emotion as he considered the implications of the question. What had occurred when Peter was alone with the other man?

“I am with the person that I love, looking forward to physically expressing my desire for him as soon as he stops asking asinine questions.” Peter’s gentle smile melted Egon’s heart as he stared down at the dark haired man. “He did help me to realize that I love you, you do have him to thank for that. But I am here because I love you, not because you remind me of him.” Peter’s hand rubbed up Egon’s arm. “Now, I hope you know what your doin’, cause I’m a little out of my league here and I am relying on you, Spengs.”

“I have made love to you hundreds of times utilizing a variety of methods--in my mind, Peter. I know what I am doing.”

Egon leaned down and recaptured Peter’s mouth. He sucked on the eager tongue. He slid down, till his body was lying on top of Peter’s. He gasped when Peter spread his legs, so that their erections were pressed against each other. The instinctive need to move overcame Egon; his body created a warm friction against Peter’s heated flesh. His mind became focused on the need to thrust against the body beneath his as his tongue continued to explore the moist recesses of Peter’s mouth. Their actions became more frenzied, the sweat on their bodies made it easier for their flesh to glide against each other. The rhythm increased until Egon broke the kiss, and drew in a lungful of needed air. He could feel his energy swelling until it seemed to explode in a release of pleasure that overcame him. He surrendered to wave upon wave of ecstasy as the world turned black.

When Egon became aware of his surroundings again, he found himself still on Peter’s body. He could still smell the mint scent of Peter’s shampoo and he nuzzled his face into Peter’s soft hair and sighed in satisfaction. Peter also sighed against his neck as his arms came around Egon, pressing him closer to his body. “God that was...phenomenal.”

Egon chuckled as he proceeded to lick around Peter’s ear, exploring the shape and tasting the soft skin around the appendage. He couldn’t seem to stop touching Peter, prolonging the moment. He traced up Peter’s jaw, tasting the smooth flesh beneath him. When he reached Peter’s mouth, he kissed the lips gently before he drew away. Peter lay beneath him, his hair was in glorious disarray and his eyes glowed with post coital bliss. “As always, you were magnificent.” Egon sighed in satisfaction when Peter blushed.

“I’m just sorry that it took me so long to realize how I felt about you, Egon. I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.”

“Dr. Venkman, having the opportunity to be loved by you is worth the wait." Egon settled himself beside Peter. He reached out and drew the other body against him. “I have also dreamed of sleeping with you and waking during the night to feel your body against me.”

“If that’s your way of saying that we should get some sleep, I accept. It’s been a long couple of days. Saving yourself is tough work.” Peter yawned as he settled the covers over their bodies. He yawned and cuddled into Egon’s welcoming arms, where he never intended to leave.

Which was just fine with Egon, since he never intended to let him go.

 

While the two men slept, another man opened his emerald eyes wearily. The smell of bleach and disinfectant had warned him that he was in a hospital even before his eyes had opened. The sounds of beeping monitors had also assisted him to identify his surroundings. “For the prices this dump charges, you’d think someone would turn up the heat or buy some fleece blankets,” Peter mumbled as he looked around the dark room. He rubbed a hand across his eyes and stretched cramped muscles. He felt as if he’d been asleep for a week. Maybe he had.

He carefully studied the interior of the dim room. As he adjusted his body, his befuddled senses noticed the presence of another body beside him on the narrow bed. Peter reached over and stroked the blond head lying on his pillow. Even deeply asleep, Egon’s arm was wrapped possessively around Peter’s waist. Peter noticed the dark circles under Egon’s eyes. Jeez, you look like you’ve been on a weeklong drinking binge, big guy, Peter concluded as he studied the beloved face beside his. Peter winced when a loud snore issued from the full lips.

Peter knew that Egon only snored that loud when he was ill or exhausted. It could be a little of both tonight, Peter decided as he tried to lie as still as possible so that the man could sleep. He settled his head onto the pillow and indulged in the opportunity to study his sleeping friend. Egon’s hair was wildly disarrayed and he was wearing...a sweatshirt. Peter studied the garment and recognized it as his favorite sweatshirt. Either Ray broke the washing machine again or those are ‘comfort clothes’--something must have shook him right to his foundation if he needed to resort to wearing something of mine.

Concern entered the green eyes as Peter contemplated the circumstances that had led to this situation. He could remember being ill...with some sort of virus. After that everything seemed hazy. He could vaguely recall an image of Egon laying beside him on a couch as he dialed 911. “I guess the virus must have gotten worse?” Peter whispered.  

The blond man snorted and shifted restlessly on the bed as Peter held his breath. The physicist sighed as his face snuggled into the crook between Peter’s nape and neck; Peter could feel the other man’s soft breath against his skin. Peter turned his head slightly and kissed the top of the blond head before he snuggled into the lumpy pillow. He knew that his body was weak but he felt safe with the other man lying beside him, guarding him from danger. Peter felt comfortable in the knowledge that Egon would never sleep if he or any of the other members of the team were in danger; the fact that he had crawled into the bed with Peter was evidence that everything was fine.

Peter smiled in contentment as he surrendered to his body’s need for more sleep. Obviously something was wrong with me, but everything is fine now. Egon wouldn’t be asleep unless everything was fine. Egon will watch out for me and tell me what the hell is going on when I’m ready to know. Peter closed his eyes and turned his head, so that all he could smell was the soapy, clean smell of Egon’s skin.

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