You've Goth to Be Kidding

Egon Spengler--Ghostbuster, physicist and certified genius was having a "bad day."  He glared at the defenseless remote, lying on the coffee table as he gnashing his teeth together in a futile attempt to control his burgeoning frustration.  He felt his cheeks turning red as he muttered.

"I am not suffering from bad luck. I refuse to give credence to the idea. It's idiotic. It's illogical. It's..........nonsensical to believe that a specific day is predestined to consist of one misfortune after another. I will not permit it to be true!"

Suddenly, unbidden, Egon heard the sound of his best friend's voice in his mind. Egon, face facts.  When a day consists of one shitty thing after another, you should just stop resisting.  Accept the fact that the gods are pissed off at you and crawl back into bed before anything else can get majorly screwed up.

Egon sniffed disdainfully as he propped his back against the edge of the coffee table.  He dismissed the illogical advice as soon as he recalled it.     

The cause of his skepticism could be attributed to fifteen years of exposure to the behavior patterns of Peter Venkman, the source of the quote.  Egon considered the advice to be another example of Peter's justifications for his indolent work habits. Peter frequently employed even the flimsiest excuses to justify his daily naps.  Egon had once sarcastically remarked that Peter's academic ambition throughout college consisted of discovering a profession that could be accomplished without leaving the confines of his bed!

Egon loved science. Throughout his childhood it had been a safe haven from his father's cold indifference. Superstition played no part in the scientific process. He truly didn't believe that a day could be cursed and that nothing the person attempted would break the cycle of bad luck.  As a man of science, he had always dismissed the unproven theories of fate and predestination as people's attempts to avoid taking responsibility for their actions.  For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction, he reasoned. If things were going wrong in his day, he attributed the misfortune to bad decisions and careless behaviors.

Egon smiled ruefully when he considered another coping mechanism that Peter frequently employed when things went bad; he'd blame somebody else. Peter hated to admit his own culpability when disasters occurred.  Since no one had been around today, Egon wouldn't be able to indulge in that escape mechanism, even though it sounded like a nice idea to him right now.

Peter also threw things when he felt overwhelmed.  But Egon considered himself to be too mature to indulge in such childish behavior, so he knew that he couldn't use this method to release his tension. Could he?

"Hey, Egon!"

Peter's call interrupted Egon's introspections on fate.  He opened his eyes to glimpse his best friend running up the stairs.  Egon winced when he saw his colleague carelessly fling his jacket on the couch.  He closed his eyes and leaned his head against the back of the table that he was propped against, as Peter kneeled on the floor beside him.

"God. I have just been having the most amazing day today.  First, I ran into that cute DJ; the one who works at KACL. Remember her?" Egon opened one blue eye and glared at the excited psychologist. He debated and dismissed the idea of tackling Peter and stuffing a seat cushion into his talkative mouth; it would require too much energy to move, so Peter was safe.

Peter was an intuitive man, who usually picked up on Egon's moods, but his excitement was distracting him this time.  "Anyway, she invited *yours truly* to lunch at this fantastic new vegetarian restaurant on the West Side.  It's called Leafy Greens; you've got to try it. Then, I ran into Dave in the subway station. Yada. Yada. Yada.  He can't make it to the grand opening of an art exhibit tonight and he offered me his passes."  He waved the two slips of paper under Egon's nose.  "And you know that free is my favorite four-letter word--."

As he noticed Egon's startled expression, he amended " OK, it's my second favorite four letter word. So, of course I took them. I'm gonna be dressed-to-impress tonight.  I've got that new Armani suit and that silk shirt that I haven't worn yet.  I'll be beating the women off with a stick when they behold the splendor that is Venkman. There is nothing that I love more than rubbing elbows with the elite of Manhattan."  Peter smirk began to vanish as he finally noticed Egon's lack of response to his statements.

Peter studied his friend intently, his expressive green eyes reflecting his concern. "You're a mess.  What have you been doing, mud wrestling with Slimer?"

Egon opened his mouth to reply, but he closed it. You're very fortunate that I am too tired to respond, Dr. Venkman.

Egon squirmed under the close scrutiny and eagerly turned his back toward his friend, when Peter gestured him to turn around.  Egon sighed in relief as he felt Peter's skilled hands begin to rub the tension out of his sore muscles. 

Back rubs had been honed into an art form over the course of their friendship.  Egon's thoughts drifted back to their initial meeting as the hands loosened his tight muscles. Before Peter had entered his life, Egon had always had trouble sharing his emotions with others.  They had met briefly on campus but their friendship began when they both enrolled in the same parapsychology class.  Peter earned Egon's respect when he heard his thoughtful and intelligent answers to the professor's questions. 

He had been intrigued by the juxtaposition that existed in the enigmatic man; on the surface he seemed popular, vivacious and easygoing. Yet his eyes contained a world-weariness and sadness that Egon easily recognized and understood.  He had made it one of his goals to banish those shadows as he befriended the student. Their interactions eventually developed into the close friendship that Egon had come to depend on like breathing.  Peter had the ability to make him laugh, to encourage him in his intellectual pursuits and to unerringly guide him through any emotional crisis.  Egon felt some of his depression banish as he basked in his friend's nurturing ministrations.

"Soooo.  What happened?"   The soothing, familiar tone also made Egon relax even more as he mentally constructed his response to the question.  

 

After working in his lab for most of the day, Egon had decided to take a break. He was almost finished with the final modifications on his new invention.  The project represented five weeks of intense work and he was eager to share his success with his colleagues.  But as he made his way into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee from the pot, he noticed the silence that had permeated the fire hall. 

Hmmm.  Obviously everyone but me is taking advantage of the unseasonably warm weather to run errands.  Egon sighed in disappointment as he retraced his steps back up to his lab.  

He reached into a drawer in the counter and withdrew a solitary, squashed Twinkie. He shrugged. It may look odd, I'm not in a fussy mood, he decided. As he unwrapped the plastic he took a large gulp of coffee, hoping the caffeine would refresh his depleting attention span.

"Ahhhh!!!" he cried as he spit out the noxious beverage as soon as his taste buds processed its unpalatable taste. Egon coughed and tried to catch his breath as he felt the coffee drip down his face. Unnoticed, the cup dropped onto the table and smashed into three large pieces.  Egon ran to the bathroom to rinse out his mouth with water. Either Slimer had been sitting in the pot playing submarine captain again or Ray made the coffee. He glanced up into the bathroom mirror and groaned as he studied his disheveled reflection. His favorite pink shirt was covered in dark brown stains.

A soft humming sound and the smell of burning rubber registered on his senses when he turned off the faucet and shook off his wet hands.

"Oh, Nooooo!!!!" Egon cried. He grabbed a towel off the rack and raced back to the lab.  He switched off the power button on his new device. Well, at least it didn't blow up, he reasoned.  He placed his hands on his hips as he struggled to catch his breath. The sodden Twinkie and dripping electronic components met his exasperated gaze. Egon furiously shoved his sliding glasses back into position as he settled onto a lab stool and began to wipe up the excess liquid with the towel.  Some of the liquid dripped off the table and landed on his pants.

Egon ignored the discomfort as he continued to clean up the mess.  He threw the Twinkie in the trash regretfully.  The physicist resigned himself to the task of cannibalizing the parts of his project as he reached down into a drawer for a screwdriver.

Egon closed the door to the lab with satisfaction and made his way to the bunkroom.  As he peered inside, his spotted a large pile of unopened mail that sat on his night table.  He grabbed the stack and headed downstairs.            

While occupying a seat at the dining room table, he quickly dismissed the urge to get a glass of cold milk when he recalled the earlier debacle. Maybe I'm better off keeping liquids far away from anything I try to accomplish today.  Well, at least I can't get into any serious trouble opening mail, he assumed as he opened the first envelope.          

"Ouch," he yelped.  He stared down at his finger, which had been cut by the sharp edge of the envelope flap.  He sighed heavily, stuck the stinging digit into his mouth and settled down to read the letter.           

A short time later, Slimer entered the kitchen in search of snacks.  Bright eyes studied the physicist below him.  He froze as he heard the tone of Egon's voice as the man spoke into the phone.  Although the man wasn't yelling, Slimer recognized the soft, slow speech pattern; it was the one that Egon used whenever Slimer dripped ectoplasm onto one of his devices.            

"No, Mindy.  I have the deposit slip in my hand," Egon waved the paper in the hand that was not holding the phone.              

Slimer listened quietly to the conversation.  He couldn't remember if he had done anything wrong recently. Being a smart neitherbeing, who valued his continued existence on the human plane, Slimer quickly oozed out of the fire hall before Egon could see him.           

"The date on it clearly indicates that I deposited eight hundred dollars in my checking account last month.  Yet, I can't find any record of that deposit listed on my balance statement, which makes the total amount incorrect, too.  Now what do you intend to do to rectify this careless error?"            

Egon listened intently as he doodled in a corner of his checkbook. "Yes, inputting the amount into the computer does sound like a sensible idea. Yes, I'll hold while you do that."  As he waited, Egon concluded that the term customer-service was an oxymoron at this bank.           

"Now could you read off the balance for me?" Egon listened to the woman's response while he tapped on the table with his pencil. "Yes, I know that you input the eight hundred.  My balance should now equal the amount of nine thousand, eight hundred dollars, seventy-four cents." The pencil stilled and Egon's eyes widened in dismay. "Yes, I'm sure!"  Egon attempted to speak slowly, the method that he used to converse with Slimer. "Obviously, you've made another error Mindy, since the total amount is most certainly not eight hundred dollars!"              

He threw the pencil down onto the table and ran the fingers of his free hand through his disheveled hair.  Egon's head suddenly jerked up. "No, don't connect me to another represente.......Hello! Holy Heidelberg!" he shouted. 

He laid his head on the table and closed his eyes as "Feelings" proceeded to play through the receiver of the phone. 

Stop the music.  Stop the music.  God, now I'm starting to hum this awful song. I'd consider strangling myself with the telephone cord but I'm on a portable!!!! 

He moaned piteously as the song continued to play.            

One hour later, Egon slammed down the phone.  A beam of light bounced off the darkened screen of the television to shine in Egon's eyes. Why not, I deserve a break.  Egon gave up his attempts to be productive; it was only leading to more work. Life just wasn't fair sometimes, he reflected.             

Egon cautiously sat down on the soft couch. He had almost been expecting a spring to bounce out, but nothing disastrous happened. He located the remote buried under a seat cushion.  Pushing the power buttons on, he leaned back and sighed. Although he enjoyed the interactions between himself and his teammates, Egon reveled in the opportunity to watch a program without interruptions.  He also wouldn't have to ignore a running commentary--usually supplied by Peter--who did not share his enthusiasm for nature documentaries.             

The team interacted smoothly despite the differences in their personalities, until it came time to watch television; the person who could locate the remote first determined the choice of show. Winston could be counted on to choose any mystery movies that were being broadcast; Peter enjoyed watching westerns and comedies; Ray loved science fiction and cartoons.  I love watching just about anything being broadcast on the Discovery channel, Egon thought as he put his feet up on the coffee table.           

Egon fast-forwarded the tape when the documentary on "Rare Fungi of South Africa" failed to appear on the screen.  He got up to examine the label on the tape, which he ejected from the VCR. He was dismayed to recognize his own writing on it.         

"Merde," Egon muttered.  He recognized his foolish mistake as he examined the entertainment center.  His friends often teased Egon about his tendency to be absent-minded, and sometimes their teasing was justified.  

Last night, the team had gotten an emergency call.  A female apparition was breaking into jewelry stores on Fifth Avenue and the Mayor had called to request the Ghostbusters immediate assistance.  You don't say no to the mayor. In his haste to leave, Egon had forgotten to change the channel on the cable box. Now he was the proud owner of two hours of something called "WWW Smashdown".  Egon's legs collapsed under him and as he sank to the floor and began to massage the tense muscles in his neck.           

A short time later, he was jarred from his quiet introspection by the slamming of the garage door; Peter had made his well-timed arrival.  

 

When Egon was finished speaking, Peter shook his head and sighed dramatically. "I'm always warning Ray that it's dangerous to leave you home alone, without adult supervision, but does anyone listen to me? No!"  Egon began to laugh hysterically, because Peter's remark did seem to be true.           

"So, what is the prognosis on your patient, Dr. Freud?" Egon glanced over his shoulders to make eye contact with his friend.           

Peter adopted a German accent as he responded. "I prescribe three aspirins and a hot shower.  Then the patient should get dressed in a nice suit, with no pink shirts in evidence."  Peter emphasized the remark with a pat on Egon's shoulders as he arose from the carpet.  "He will then accompany his best friend to an art exhibit, to be followed by dinner in a scenic location to calm his nerves. The change of scene and the entertaining company should help to sooth the patient's frayed nerves."            

Peter dodged to avoid the pillow that Egon had thrown at his head. As he reached down to retrieve the weapon, he spotted a jumble of wires and components lying on the floor.  "Hey! Did Ray step on the remote control, again?"           

Egon didn't bother to respond.  He tried to maintain the innocent expression on his face as he rapidly climbed the spiral stairs.  He sighed in relief, because the cycle of misfortune seemed to be over.  Egon was also looking forward to the mischief and misadventures that usually punctuated evenings out with his lively friend.

           

"Next time, I'll ask what is being exhibited before I accept free passes.  I promise."  Peter loosened the knot of his silk tie as he glanced at his friend walking beside him.          

"Well, the evening wasn't a total loss.  True, the art did resemble something that Janine's five year old nephew could have drawn." Egon admitted. "But I discovered that after a couple of servings of the free champagne, I began to appreciate looking at the....um.... globs of paint."           

Peter nodded in agreement.  "I thought the one called Morning Scene should be renamed Morning Sickness.  It sure made me want to puke."  Egon chuckled.           

"The cloud scene did provoke strong responses from both of us, which is what art is suppose to do."  Egon laughed aloud in reminiscence.  "I thought the main cloud resembled bulging eyes watching over Manhattan. You kept saying that it looked like two breasts." Egon rolled his eyes in disgust. "If you had admitted that I was right, Miss Price wouldn't have heard our debate.  Being escorted out of a gala by a security guard named Rocco was not pleasant."           

"No, that was not our shining moment."  Peter nodded and grinned mischievously toward the other man, before he protested, "I said that it looked like two boobs--get the quote right!  If you cleaned off your glasses once and a while you would've been able to notice that I was right."            

"All seeing eyes!"            

"Boobs!"            

It might have been the lingering effects of the alcohol or the full moon, but Egon eagerly continued to participate in the childish argument until Peter stopped walking and gestured toward a group of tables.            

Egon smiled and decided that he was enjoying himself immensely.  Part of the reason, he concluded, was because it was nice to get out of the fire hall. But Egon also admitted to himself that he was also enjoying spending some time alone with his best friend. The demands of their busy careers didn't provide them with many opportunities to spend their leisure time together.  In college, a tradition had begun--each man would try to find an activity that the other person was sure to loath, and drag that person to the event. Surprisingly, both men enjoyed the outings.  It allowed them to share their interests with each other and both were often surprised to find that their ideas and values were startlingly similar.  The busy season had not afforded them any time to plan an outing, until today.           

"I will admit that when you mentioned dinner, I did assume that you were referring to a restaurant, Peter".  Egon peered down at the hot dog in his hand, tilting it as he struggled to discover the best way to bite into it without inevitable wearing its toppings.  It was covered with cheese and chili sauce and Egon intended to formulate a plan of attack before he would consume it.            

He started nibbling fastidiously at an edge, when he noticed that Peter had finished eating.  He hands were folded in from of him as he stared across the table. Egon recognized the amusement and exasperation on his friend's open continence. "Eat up, big guy.  When you're done I may even buy you a dessert.  Someone has to put some weight on those scrawny limbs before you fade away."           

"Will that be consumed in another 'scenic location', Peter?" Egon inquired between bites.  He was surprised to discover that the hot dog was delicious. Of course, he'd never admit that!  "And I'm not scrawny, I just have small bones."             

Peter chose to ignore Egon's contradiction. "I said a scenic background, and what's more scenic than Central Park." Peter flung his hands out at his side. "I ask you. Where else can you enjoy a foot-long wiener with the works as you sit among joggers, winos and tourists."           

When Egon had finished the impromptu meal, Peter grabbed the trash and threw it in a nearby basket.  Egon rushed to join his friend as he fastidiously wiped the last of the mustard off of his hand with his handkerchief.            

"Peter, why don't we lay our wallets on a park bench and save the muggers the effort?"  Egon's feet were beginning to hurt from all of the unexpected walking.  "Two men dressed in suits wandering through the park at night. We might as well get a bullhorn and yell out  'Easy money, come and get it!!'"            

Peter snorted in amusement. His attention was focused on a group of performers dressed in elaborate costumes, which were coming down the path. The members of the group seemed to be wearing period costumes; the men were wearing cloaks with ruffled shirts and dark suits visible under the swinging capes. The women were also wearing cloaks over long gowns.  Peter smiled in appreciation when he observed the cleavage that the gowns displayed.  As they passed under a street lamp, Peter noticed the pale complexions of the group.  Many of them were also wearing excessive amounts of black eyeliner and mascara.           

As a Ghostbuster Peter had learned to be diligent and to trust his instincts.  Peter scanned the group, but his instincts detected no threat from the strangers.  The group wasn't just walking; they seemed to be interacting. Peter remembered a conversation that he once had with Ray about live action role-playing games, where the players were required to act out the actions of their characters as they participated in the game.           

"Peter, humor me please."  Egon's amused voice finally registered to his distracted companion.  "At least make the effort to look like you're attending to my attempts at conversation. After all, we aren't in a staff meeting."  Egon's smile belayed the sarcastic edge to his words.           

Peter forced his eyes away from the scantily dressed coeds that were approaching them.  "Sorry  'Gon.  But get a load of that outfit."  Peter elbowed his friend as he gestured toward a woman dressed in a skin-tight cat suit.  "Why didn't someone invent this vampire role-playing game thing while we were in college?"  Peter shook his head in disgust.         

Egon reached into a pocket and extracted his PKE meter, which he pointed in the direction of the pseudo-undead.  He glanced toward a vampiress, who smiled back at him revealing her plastic fangs.  He quickly looked down to adjusting the meter in his hands. He sighed in relief when the readings confirmed that none of the group was real vampires. He hid the meter under his coat when the group was beside them. 

Both men edged to the side of the path to get out of the way of the performers.   Egon glanced at the distracted psychologist out of the corner of his eye.  Mischief and humor seemed to radiate off of the man.  It had always fascinated him to observe people's reactions to the charisma that Peter unconsciously projected.  It always seemed to engender love/hate reactions among strangers.  Egon noted that the woman was covertly ogling the man, almost as much as he had been doing to them, as they scurried by.           

One woman stopped to lasciviously scan Peter from head to toe, while he ignored her. I've gotta start hanging around in the park more often!  She had been instantly attracted to handsome dark-haired man.  She noticed that he was dressed in a tasteful gray suit, with a dark green shirt and tie that emphasizes the color of his eyes. She sighed in disappointment and walked away when she correctly interpreted the man's body language--disinterest.           

Egon heard the meter beeping.  He quickly extracted it and began to adjust the dials. "I am picking up an overlay of energy that I cannot identify.  It seems to be quiescent, but it is present."  Peter turned toward Egon, and plucked the meter from his hands to read it.          

"I knew I should have frisked you before we left the fire hall. You hid this thing in one of those pockets on your trench coat, didn't you?"            

"I'll never tell."  Egon smiled slightly as he retrieved the meter from Peter.           

"The reading looked pretty weak to me Egon.  It could have just been some sort of interference from an outside source."  Peter turned toward his friend, a look of profound exhaustion radiated from his expressive gaze. "Can we pretend you didn't see it and take the night off from busting?"  The remark was said as a joke, but long association allowed Egon to detect a trace of desperation in the request. It had been a busy month, for all of the men, but it had probably been worse for Peter.            

Peter was the unofficial leader of the team and it was a role that he took very seriously.  He also seemed to revel in antagonizing a paranormal being; distracting it with a barrage of sarcastic remarks until the team could surround it in their streams.  Last night, the entity had lobbed several pieces of jewelry at Peter before the team was able to contain it in their streams.  Egon had noticed the painful looking bruises on Peter's body later that night, when he undressed and collapsed into bed.  Egon was sure that those bruises were still tender even now and he mentally winced in sympathy.            

He looked at the meter and shrugged his shoulders. "You might be right.  I can always come back tomorrow with Raymond. With more equipment I may be able to find the source of the emanations." He slid the meter into his pocket. Peter's relieved smile made him feel satisfied with his decision.           

Egon and Peter proceeded to wander through more groups of vampires as they both headed for the edge of the park.  "This whole Goth movement has always disturbed me.  I think it encourages people to consider the occult to be a game, which can be very dangerous.  I think Raymond would share my unease."           

Peter turned toward his friend and shook his head. "Goth has been around for a long time.  I can remember a girl from my abnormal psych class who wore black and was fascinated with death.  I always suspected that she was a closet necrophiliac.  Anyway, she was a legit Goth. These people are just into it because it's trendy right now." 

"Hmm, maybe it's a good thing that this game wasn't around when we were in college. I keep picturing the mischief that you and Ray--our own version of calamity Jane, could have gotten into. It's enough to boggle my mind."             

"The trouble that Raymond and I could have gotten into would surely been eclipsed your antics, Dr. Venkman."  He gestured toward a male vampire.  "Especially if you wore that black cloak and that undertaker-style suit one of your psychology classes."           

Peter and Egon began to laugh hysterically. "I'd still be tied to a couch somewhere telling them about my mother!" Peter added as he leaned over to hold his stomach and catch his breath.           

Over Peter's hunched form, Egon noticed a young woman who was pretending to cast a spell from an authentic looking spellbook. "Besides I wouldn't be caught dead, no pun intended, in those ridiculous outfits. It would be undignified for a scientist." Egon's remark set Peter's hysteria off again. 

Peter was envisioning Egon walking around their campus wearing the black lipstick and globs of black eyeliner as Ray kept tripping and falling when his legs got tangled in a long black cloak.           

The girl finished intoning the spell, and cast it at the vampires.  Electrical current emitted from her upraised hand. Her friends ducked to avoid the beams of light; it hit Egon before he could react. Hmm, I guess the book was authentic, he speculated as he began to loose consciousness.  His last thought was that someone needed to get that book off of the neophyte, before she inadvertently cast another dangerous spell. 

           

Egon did his best to ignore the drum that someone was playing.  He tried listing the elements of the periodic table to take his mind off the beat, but it persistence began to irritate him.  He speculated that it was probably the efforts of the construction crew who had been remodeling one of the warehouses near the fire hall.           

Egon found that opening his eyes required a great deal of effort.  As they slit opened a blinding light seamed to sear them.  He blinked several times, to clear away the tears that had formed.  He mentally debated the idea of closing them again when he noticed the wavering sensation that assaulted his equilibrium.  Curious, he realized that it made him feel as if he were submerged.  Most interesting.           

He registered the sensation that someone was holding his right hand. Since he didn't have on his glasses, all he could distinguish was a dark-headed blur that seemed to be sitting beside him on the edge of his bed.  Egon licked parched lips and attempted to ask the blur for some water.  All that he could get out was the sound "waaaa"; he was proud of his efforts.          

The blur leaned closer. Oh, it's Peter.           

Egon sighed in relief when his friend gently supported his head before he placed a plastic glass to the physicist's lips. The water was cool and helped to wash away the funky taste that seemed to cling to his tongue and teeth.  As he sat back against the pillow, he smiled up at his friend to express his gratitude. 

Peter earned even more gratitude when he slipped a pair of glasses on Egon's face.  Egon looked up at his friend to thank him.  He was shocked to the core when he observed the unkempt condition of his friend's hair and the stubble on his cheeks.  Egon's concern increased when he noticed the condition of Peter's eyes, which looked puffy and red. Egon was willing to speculate that his friend hadn't been sleeping. Insomnia?           

Egon was also disturbed when he noticed that the emerald eyes were quickly filling with tears that were silently spilling down his friend's cheeks. "Peter..." Egon gasped out. "Is someone badly hurt?"  Peter pushed back a strand of hair that kept sliding into Egon's eyes and smiled.           

"Not anymore, big guy. Not anymore."  Peter leaned down and carefully engulfed the bigger man in his arms.  Egon attempted to return the hug, but he couldn't seem to raise his arms to do it.            

Egon wouldn't have cared if Peter clung to him for hours.  In his friend's embrace he felt safe and cherished.  But all to soon Peter pulled away from him to sit up again.  He used his left hand to wipe away the moisture on his face as his right hand squeezed Egon's gently.            

Egon tried to ask Peter what had happened but his exhaustion overcame him. Peter would never lie to him, he reasoned.  He felt secure enough to close his eyes. The last sensation that Egon felt before he slept was the comforting feeling of Peter kissing his forehead.

           

"No.  I do not want a sponge bath, madam."  Egon used the hospital sheet to hide from the predatory nurse who was smiling at him.  He felt like a helpless fly caught in the web of a hungry spider.  "I was planning to utilize the facilities in this hospital room...once you leave."           

"Mr. Spengler, you don't seem to comprehend your body's limitations. You have been unconscious for a long period of time. If we let you use the shower, you will have to be supervised to make sure that you don't injure yourself." Egon shuddered as she reached for the blanket.           

"He will be supervised...by me."  The unexpected voice emanated from behind the startled nurse's back where Peter was leaning negligently against the doorframe.  He slid the door opened as he said, "If we need anything, we'll beep.  You can go now."            

The nurse walked by and glared at him. Peter noticed the look and shrugged; he was sure that if looks-could-kill, he'd be a corpse  "I can't leave you alone for five minutes before you're making passes at nurses. You've learned well, Grasshopper."  Both men laughed.           

When Egon had calmed down he explained, "Peter, I realize that my injury has caused you a great deal of stress, and I am sorry for that."  Egon stood up and walked over to Peter. "But my doctor has given me a clean bill of health.  So, there is no reason to treat me like an invalid. And if you don't stop fussing over me...I am going to beat you over the head with my dinner tray."           

Peter chuckled as his arms slid around his friend.  "It's great to have ya back, Spengs.  Ray and Winston were having trouble keeping me in line."           

Several seconds passed before Egon withdrew from the embrace.  He reached out his hand to disturb Peter's hair before he moved out of reach by entering the bathroom.  "Hey, lay off the hair!" Peter protested as he rearranged the hair back into its usual style utilizing the bathroom mirror.           

Egon smirked. "Vanity thy name is Venkman. You can guard the door and protect my virtue from the lustful gaze of Gloria Nightmare, if you want to supervise me.  I can wash my own back, thank you very much."  Egon struggled to reach the ties on the hospital gown.  He smiled in relief when Peter untied the knots for him.           

"You should feel honored.  I know legions of women who would love to have my company in their bathrooms." Peter strutted to the door of the bathroom and leaned back with his arms folded in front of him.           

"Oh, I'm sure they're eager...to have you wash out their toilet, maybe."  Peter's outraged gasp made Egon's laughter explode out of his chest. Egon was still chuckling as he striped out of his clothes and stepped under the stream of cascading water.           

"Cha-ching."  Peter licked his finger and made an invisible mark in the air. "Good one Spengs.  But remember to be nice to your ride home.  It's a long walk back to the firehouse."           

Peter had driven very slowly and carefully, but the motion of the automobile had made Egon feel nauseous.  Egon knew that Winston would never forgive him if he vomited in Ecto, so he quickly climbed out. "It's great to finally be home.  Everyone came to the room to visit, but I will admit that I find hospitals unpleasant."            

 As Egon started to climb the stairs, Peter came up behind him to lend his support if it was needed." Did they try to turn you a human pin cushion, big guy?" Peter asked.           

"Yes.  I was beginning to suspect that I was being cared for as St. Vampires instead of St. Vincent's."  Peter chuckled along with Egon. Yet, the joke made Egon feel a tinge of unease.  The doctors had warned him to expect memory lapses, as a result of the head injury. I wonder what other memories I've lost.           

"Peter. Where is everyone?"  Egon tried to ask the question casually, but Peter recognized the hurt feelings underlying the question.            

"I'll tell you when we get you upstairs on the rec-room couch."  Peter evaded the searching gaze as he urged his friend up the last few stairs.  Egon was surprised to feel beads of perspiration forming on his forehead.  Peter leaned in front of him and turned on the lights.           

"Surprise!"  Yelled the small group of people gathered in the dining area.  Egon froze in shock.  He hadn't been expecting a homecoming like this.  Ray came bouncing over and engulfed him in a hug. "We really surprised you, huh?" he asked.  His eyes glowed with happiness.            

Winston gently extracted Egon from the embrace, so that he could hug him. "Welcome home, my man", the Ghostbusters whispered huskily. Winston wasn't usually an emotionally demonstrative man and it made Egon feel very lucky to be friends with this special man as Winston released him. 

Then Janine came over and kissed him on his cheek. "He looks kinda pale Dr. V. I think you oughtta get over here and get 'im to the couch before he falls down."            

Egon removed his glasses to rub the moisture out of his eyes. Peter gently nudged the larger man forward toward the couch, where someone placed an afghan over his legs.  When Egon slid the glasses back into place he noticed that his mother stood by the couch.  She leaned over and gently kissed him on the cheek. "Are you feeling all right, Spookums?"  Her son nodded.  He was still to overcome with the shock of seeing her in New York.  He ducked his head to evade her perceptive gaze.           

Mrs. Spengler sat beside Egon on the couch. " I know you're surprised to see me here. Peter has been calling me every day to relay all the news about your progress. Then he called yesterday to tell me that you were waking up."  She smiled fondly, and patted Egon's arm. "That boy is something special, Egon.  He called the airport and booked me on a flight; he even got me accommodations in Manhattan.  He wouldn't take any of my money!  Anyway, here I am. I am so happy that you have such good friends to take care of you and love you.  That and good health are all that any mother wishes for her children." 

Mrs. Spengler filled Egon in on all the latest news about the Spengler clan and her new puppy, Chester.  Chester had been a Christmas present from her son, so she adored the Labrador retriever. "Spookums, I'm going to go stretch my legs and then I have to get going.  Now that I know that you're all right, I really need to get going.  I can't be away from home for long."  She wrapped her arms around her son and kissed his cheek. "Make sure you rest and eat healthy foods." was her final advice before she walked into the kitchen to call a taxi.

Winston leaned over the back of the couch a few minutes later. "It's great to have you back, my man."  He handed Egon a glass of juice, which Egon eagerly drank. "This place has been awfully quiet without your lab explosions to wake up the neighborhood."           

Egon laughed as he drank, and grimaced when orange juice dribbled down his chin.  Egon stared toward his friend as he handed him the empty glass.  Egon stared speculatively at the man who he considered to be the most rational and emotionally stable member of the team.  He would be able to handle the difficult question that Egon wanted to ask. "Winston. How long was I unconscious?"  

Winston shuffled his feet and avoided Egon's blue gaze.  He was debating whether to evade the question when Egon clasped his hand briefly. " I can't ask Peter or Ray, you know that."           

Winston looked into Egon's eyes. "Two weeks, homeboy. Two long weeks.  We all took up residence at the hospital. Pete drove the doctors crazy with his questions.  The staff finally gave up on lecturing him about visiting hours and let him sleep in the chair by your bed."  Winston snorted. " That guy's something else. One of the nurses thought that he looked so pathetic that she started taking him trays of food...and gave him her phone number."  Egon smiled in understanding.           

Somehow Egon had known that Peter had been by his bedside while he slept--talking to him and urging him to wake up. They had both come to depend on each other's presence to keep them well-adjusted adults.

Strangers classified Peter a fun loving, confident man with a scathingly sarcastic wit.  Egon was aware that the outgoing, sometimes egotistical persona was used to camouflage a very sensitive heart.  Peter only revealed his true nature to his close friends and Egon was his best friend. Egon was certain that part of his heart would wither away if anything ever happened to the psychologist and he knew that Peter felt the same way about him, so he was not surprised by Winston's revelations.           

"Hey, can I sit in the seat of honor next?" Winston smiled.  He straightened up to let Ray sit in the seat. Before he walked away, he leaned over to whisper in Egon's ear. "We'll talk tomorrow morning, if you have any more questions."  Ray watched the exchange with a bemused look on his round face.             

Ray leaned over and hugged Egon once he had settled onto the couch. "I knew you'd be ok. Everyone was worried sick about you, but I knew you'd find a way to come back to us."  Egon smiled in gratitude when he saw the undisguised love shining in this man's eyes.            

"Wait till you hear what I have been building." Ray's eyes lit up as he began to explain the new device that he was designing.  Egon smiled secretly as he listened to the technical explanation.  He felt very lucky as he sat there. He and Ray shared a love of science and the paranormal that had brought them together in college.  By combining their abilities, the two men had theorized and eventually invented the technical equipment needed to capture and incarcerate paranormal entities.  Egon supplied the theories and Ray used his genius with anything electronic to make the devices.           

A voice emanating from behind him startled Egon from his thoughts. "Yeah, we missed ya, Egon. You and I are the only ones who can humble Dr. V. when his ego is expanding quicker than the deficit."  Janine kissed Egon on the cheek again and then sat on Ray's lap. She leaned against him as he wrapped his arms around her slim body.           

"Janine and I have been handling most of the small busts for the last couple of weeks.  You'll have to see how good she's gotten with the thrower."  Egon felt his jaw drop in shock when Ray leaned over and kissed Janine on her lips.           

Egon felt confused.  He had expected Janine to gaze adoringly at him, but she was doing that to Raymond.  Ray usually blushed and stammered when women pursued him, so Egon was quite dismayed to see one of the engineer's hands reach around the secretary body to hold her hand and smile at her lovingly. What is going on here?           

"We're also taking you out to lunch at that veggie restaurant that Peter is always talking about, not that he ever invites any of us to go there with him. We'll go as soon as you feel up to it.  Right honey?" Janine turned toward Ray, who nodded and grinned at Egon. 

"Well, I'm gonna get going. Either Dr. V's having a stroke or he's trying to signal us to move out of this spot."            

Janine was proven correct when Peter immediately walked over to Egon, as the couple departed, "Come on, big guy.  I'm getting you upstairs into bed before you fall asleep sitting up." Egon sighed in gratitude.  He had begun to consider bonding his eyelids open to try to stay awake.  He should have known that Peter would be observing him and notice the exhaustion that he had tried so hard to hide.           

Egon said goodnight to his friends as he leaned on Peter.  By the time they had reached the top of the spiral staircase, his head had settled onto Peter's shoulder as he surrendered to his body's need for sleep. 

 

Egon sighed and snuggled back into his pillow.  He sniffed the fabric softener scent that graced the pillow and sighed.  He was home.         

He reached out to the nightstand and retrieved his glasses and glanced over toward the other beds in the bunkroom.  They were all unoccupied. As he arose, he noticed Peter's slumped form in a chair beside his bed.  Peter was fast asleep.  Egon smiled as he considered how fortunate he was to have friends who cared so much about him. Peter had been so concerned, that he hadn't been willing to sleep in his bed just a few short feet away from Egon's.  Or maybe he's just gotten used to reposing in chairs, Egon speculated humorously when he recalled his conversation with Winston.  Dark circles were still apparent on the man's face.  Egon slid out of bed very quietly, and placed the comforter from his bed over the slumbering psychologist.            

After a hot shower, Egon felt more refreshed.  He came down the stairs and discovered a plate of homemade, banana nut muffins was sitting on the table.  Egon sighed in bliss as he grabbed one of the still warm muffins.           

Winston came into the room holding a picnic basket in one hand. "I knew you'd be down here as soon as those came out of the oven. Sometimes I think you built a meter just to detect banana nut muffins. You are always the first one down to breakfast whenever I make them."           

Egon smiled in gratitude when Winston got up to get him a glass of cold milk with ice cubes-- the last ingredient needed to supply Egon with his favorite breakfast. "That's not a bad idea, Winston.  In this place one learns to ingest any food quickly, before it's all gone."            

Winston nodded in agreement as he helped himself to a muffin. "Especially with Slimer around.  Pete made a deal with him, ya know. He's getting a pizza for every day that he doesn't bother you."  Winston snickered. "That's why you haven't been slimed...yet." 

Egon reached out to get another muffin. "I had wondered," he mumbled between bites. 

Winston chuckled. "The place wasn't the same without you, Egon.  I would have brought these muffins to your hospital room if it would have helped you to wake up sooner."           

Egon sat quietly for several minutes as he tried to think of the right way to ask his question. "What happened to me, Winston?  I don't remember any of it at all."           

Winston glanced down at his muffin.  He began pulling the walnuts out as he answered the question.   "You fell through a floor in this old warehouse.  When we got to you, you were unconscious and you stayed that way for two weeks.  The doctors weren't sure when you would wake up, so we all just waited and prayed."  

Winston raised his eyes to the understanding blue ones across from him.  "Ray kept telling everyone that you would be fine.  Janine stayed right beside him, supporting him the way she always does."           

Egon nodded in understanding and Winston continued.  "It hurt to look at Peter.  He was always there for each of us, but when I looked into his eyes I couldn't see any emotions. I could tell that he had totally shut down so that he could deal with everything and be there for us.  I tried to reach him, but when he's like that you're the only one that the man listens to."  Winston paused to drink his coffee and to think of how he would phrase his next statement. " I never believed in soulmates until I met you two. That man loves you something fierce, Egon.  I think he needs this time to heal just as much as you do. Ray canceled all the busts scheduled for today, so that the both of you could rest and spend some time together." 

Winston reached across the table to grasp Egon's hand. "If you get confused about anything else, just yell.  I'll play encyclopedia and supply you with all the answers to your questions."            

Egon smiled in gratitude.  He had always considered it to be providence the day that Winston had answered their ad.  His tactical expertise had helped the Ghostbusters develop safer strategies to capture the ghosts, but it was Winston's common sense and affability that had allowed him to become the fourth member in their friendship.           

Winston got up to answer the doorbell, while Egon pondered his words.  Egon turned around when he heard a husky, female voice call out a friendly greeting.  A strikingly beautiful blond woman smiled at him. "I was glad to hear that you were going to be all right. I've come to steal Winston away from you for the day. Are you ready, honey?" She smiled lovingly into Winston's brown eyes.           

"For anything, baby." Winston teased, before he walked over to retrieve the picnic basket and his keys. "Egon, let the guys know that I'll be on the ship today.  If they need me, I'll keep my cell phone on." 

Winston called out over his shoulder as he started down the stairs. "I'll be back when I'm back. Take it easy."           

 

"Hey, Spengs.  A loud bird, with a Brooklyn accent, mentioned to me that you've been making like Indiana Jones around this place."  Peter's voice startled Egon, who was making adjustments to a broken PKE meter.

Egon groaned and ducked his head, as he tried to hide his flushed cheeks from his observant friend.  "Well, it could have happened to anyone."  Egon grumbled as he loosened a screw on the device in front of him.           

Peter hopped up onto the table. "I really couldn't agree, since I don't have a clue what happened.  Janine was so pissed, I didn't stick around to ask her what she was talking about.  Mamma Venkman's boy is no fool."           

Egon sighed in exasperation. "It was all very embarrassing. I had gone downstairs to retrieve some parts for the meter.  While I was rummaging around, I heard something that sounded like screaming coming from the lab in the basement."  Egon paused to slide another screw out of the device.  "But the door was locked and no one was responding.  So I grabbed a charged proton pack and kicked down the door."  Egon glared at Peter who was laughing hysterically by this time.           

"I apologized profusely to Janine and to Raymond.  I don't know what more they expect."           

"Well, I'd stay up here for a few...days if I were you."  Peter slid off the table and walked over to the battered couch. "Egon, how could you not have known what was going on down there? Those two have been using the downstairs lab for their sexcapades for months now." Peter plopped gracefully onto a cushion and patted the one beside him.           

Egon threw down the screwdriver in exasperation.  The old stool squeaked as he turned to face his friend. "That's just it. I should have known.  But I didn't have the slightest clue.  As a matter of fact, I don't even remember when they started dating." The physicist stood up quickly and walked over to where Peter was sprawled out.           

"Winston asked me to inform you that he's working on his boat, today. I didn't even remember that he owned a boat.  I'm getting worried about the extent of my injuries, Peter.  Maybe they missed something."  Egon rubbed his forehead as he sat on the couch.  He had just realized that his head was hurting. Oh, joy.           

"He bought the ship about a year ago, off the royalties from his book."  Peter nodded when he heard Egon gasp in surprise.  "You had forgotten about the book, I take it?  Is there anything else that seems to has surprised you since you woke up?" Peter's settled into the corner of the sofa, so that he could better observe his agitated friend.            

Egon grabbed the eyeglasses off of his face and began to polish then with the end with his handkerchief.  "I keep having this feeling of...urgency.  It's got something to do with you.  As if there is something that I am forgetting to do or tell you."          

Peter's arm came around Egon's shoulder.  He nudged his friend in his direction but Egon didn't need a lot of coaxing.  He leaned his head onto Peter's right shoulder as Peter's hand rubbed his back soothingly.           

"In the movies, people who sustain any kind of head injury always wake up with total amnesia or they're just fine and dandy. But in reality, head injuries usually cause intermittent memory loss which usually includes their memories of the trauma."  Peter frowned. "You just need to be patient and give your body time to heal.  So stop worrying and just relax."            

Egon nodded in agreement as he sniffed and tried to wipe the tears off his face with the sleeve of his lab coat.  He arose from his comfortable position against Peter's shoulder and leaned against the back of the couch.  He looked down and noticed that his glasses were still in his right hand.           

"I always suspected that you didn't sleep through all of your classes, Dr. Venkman" Egon replied.  He slid the glasses back on and looked up toward the cracked paint on the ceiling. "But why do I find the concept of Ray dating Janine to be so ludicrous?"           

"Because you have good taste?" Peter quipped.  Egon laughed softly.           

"Actually, they are a compatible couple."  Peter angled his head back and also looked up at the ceiling. "Janine has street smarts; she can use that to make sure that no one ever takes advantage of Ray.  She has also become less critical of everything since she started dating Ray.  She's been so busy dating him that she hasn't attempted to organize my professional journals in months." The two men chuckled. "I owe Ray big time for that."           

"I think that Ray enjoys being accepted into Janine's family; he's never had that."  Egon nodded in agreement, as Peter continued. "Ray was also looking for a woman who would appreciate his romantic streak."  

He gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling for a minute before he ventured, "Ray is an intelligent man who's always willing to share his passions and knowledge with others. If it lasts, which I think it will, Janine will be a very knowledgeable member of the team.  Ray will probably make me give her a raise, too." Peter grumbled. Both men laughed at the joke.           

Egon turned to study his friend and noticed Peter intent scrutiny.  Peter edged closer to him on the couch as his hand reached under Egon's chin. "As for your anxiety about me…,"  the hand lifted and began to trace Egon's full lips as his other arm snaked around his back, drawing him closer.  Egon felt his head tilt closer, toward the mesmerizing emerald eyes. The husky tone to the voice was almost hypnotic. "...maybe you should just kiss me...," Peter kissed his lips gently, before continuing "...and that will make it all better." Peter began placing gentle butterfly kisses around Egon's mouth and jaw.           

Egon growled in frustration as he grabbed Peter's head and brought his mouth down on the soft lips.  He groaned when they opened, allowing him to taste the sweet mouth. He ran his hands through the soft, silky hair as he deepened the kisses. 

Peter gradually leaned back, until Egon's body lay on him.  He gasped in pleasure when Egon thrust against him.           

For Egon, the world only consisted of overwhelming feelings of passion and the wonderful sensations from his tongue--which darted around hungrily in the haven of Peter's mouth.  His hands took on a life of their own. They began to pull the sweatshirt out of Peter's jogging pants, to fulfill Egon's frenzied need to touch Peter's skin, before he even realized what he was doing. He stopped kissing the man only long enough to draw the shirt over Peter's head.           

Peter's hands were also not idle.  He used them to trace the muscles of Egon's back.  One hand slipped down the broad back and began to pull Egon's shirt from his pants, while other hand slipped over the man's chest as he attempted to undo the buttons on Egon's shirt.  Egon's body was pressed against him, so Peter's hand didn't fit.   

Peter moaned, and nudged the physicist. Egon responded by released Peter's mouth.  He lifted his body slightly and began to taste the skin around his friend's jaw.  Peter finished unbuttoning the shirt and slid it and the suspenders off.  He ran his hands down the smooth back and Egon groaned.  

If I had known that he'd be this receptive and this responsive, I would have done this years ago, Egon decided as he released Peter's mouth and began to suck on the skin of Peter's neck, giving him a hickey.  Egon looked down at the mark, feeling absurdly proud of the accomplishment. 

Peter's body shifted under his, until Egon could feel their erections pressed against each other. Egon responded to the maneuvering by yanking the body closer to his own. The feeling of his skin sliding against his partner's made Egon gasp again.  Peter's skin was like silk under his exploring hands.  He captured Peter's lips again and kissed him until only the need to draw breath made him pull away.  While each man gasped lungfuls of needed air, Peter reached out and unbuttoned Egon's pants.  Before Egon could even process what was happening, Peter had pulled down the pants and briefs to his knees. 

Egon moaned when he felt a hand stroking his naked thigh. " Peter," he called out.  Peter answered his need by cupping his aching shaft in his soft hand.           

Egon had never experienced such overwhelming feelings of arousal before.  He thought that he would die of pleasure when the fingers of the hand gently stroked down his throbbing organ.  Egon knew that release was imminent; his body was trembling in reaction.  He tried to calm his emotions momentarily by taking deep breaths of air.  

He grabbed the mischievous hand and removed it from the sensitive area. He wasn't finished yet; this wasn't the way that he wanted their first time to conclude.  He sat up, ignoring Peter's moan of protest. He slid his hand over the smooth stomach before reaching for the elastic of Peter's sweatpants.  He began to slide his hand inside them.  Then, with a savage motion, he jerked the pants and briefs down the man's legs as Peter wiggled out of them.           

Egon stared lustfully for several seconds at the naked perfection lying on the couch.  A demanding hand reached out to draw him back, closer to the heated flesh. Their mouths merged again as their bodies began to rub against each other.  The friction became a rhythm that increased into a frenzy of motion.  Slick skin slid against slick skin. Both men cried out simultaneously, as the final moment of bliss overtook them.           

When awareness returned Egon was stunned. He could feel his body still trembling, and his heart was pounding furiously. He had never been overwhelmed by sensations of ecstasy, until his experience with Peter. He sighed in contentment and snuggled into the warm body beneath his. Peter made a contented sound and wrapped his arms around the physicist's body.  Egon closed his eyes, and inhaled Peter's scent.  He's mine. He's mine.  The mantra dominated his thoughts as he surrendered to exhaustion.           

The persistent ringing of a cell phone awoke Egon from his deep slumber. Only the team knew each other's cell numbers therefore the call was too important to ignore. He sighed regretfully and began to gently remove Peter's limbs, which were still wrapped possessively around him. Egon sighed in relief when the sleeping man didn't stir. 

As Egon climbed off the couch, he nearly tripped.  He jerked to a halt and raised his arms to restore his balance.  As he glanced down, he noticed his pants dangling from his legs, and he smiled ruefully.  He quickly jerked them up and fastened them as he scurried over to the lab's table to retrieve the phone.           

"Yes?" he whispered into the phone.  He tiptoed out into the hallway and shut the door so that his conversation wouldn't awaken the sleeping psychologist.            

"Egon. Egon?"  The voice enquired. It was Ray.           

"Yes, I'm here Raymond," Egon reached down to zip up his trousers.           

"Egon, I won't be home tonight."  Ray's enthusiastic voice explained.  "Janine and I are at Doug's, and we started a D&D game. It's going great. We ran up against this ogre and Janine used a magic missile spell to lure him into a corner.  Then Jack shot him with a special arrow that had been treated with a sleeping potion.  Now we're off to find his treasure---," Egon pulled the phone away from his ear; he could still hear Ray's excited conversation.            

Raymond was an odd juxtaposition of personality traits.  He was a gifted scientist, who could build almost any device that the team needed.  He was knowledgeable about the occult and could be relied on to supply the team with information about anything from major demons to spells and incantations. Raymond was also a wonderful friend, willing to demonstrate that love through hugs and words of encouragement when he noticed that Egon needed them.           

Yet, the quality that Egon admired the most was his friend's love of simple pleasures--whether it manifested while he unconsciously charmed a complete stranger with his sincerity and goodwill or when he took childlike delight in books and games. One of Raymond's favorite activities was playing Dungeons and Dragons with his friends. 

Egon smiled as he recalled the time that he and Peter had been invited to join the game.  Peter had been a bard, who had spent most of the adventure seducing elfin woman.  Egon had been a wizard; he had spent most of the game studying the spells while he pointing out their discrepancies.  Egon was certain that the dungeon master, Doug, had grown aggravated with the two men's antics.  At the end of the night, he had the two characters fall into a labyrinth where trolls had captured them and eaten them.  Egon had always suspected that a bad roll of the dice had not caused his death; it had been Doug's fear that they would come back again and disrupt his game.           

He returned the phone to his ear.  Raymond was still talking. "--So, you think the game will continue throughout the night, Raymond?" He raised his voice, so that he could be heard over Ray's continuing explanation.           

"Oh, um, yeah." Ray's amused voice responded.  "Even if the game doesn't last all night, Janine and I are gonna stay here.  I just wanted you to know where I'd be.  The number is in Janine's Rolodex, on her desk.  If you need us, call, ok?"            

"Have fun. " Egon replied before he disconnected the line and slid the phone into his pant's pocket.           

Peter was still asleep on the couch. Egon retrieved his shirt from where it had fallen.  As he slipped it on, he studied his sleeping companion.  Peter was lying quietly on his back.  Egon's caressing gaze noticed that his cheeks were flushed from their excursions and his absurdly long lashes were a sharp contrast against his light skin.  Egon's breath stilled; he concluded that he had never seen the man look so irresistible.  Egon felt a wave of longing pass through his body with a tremble.  He was tempted to lean over and kiss every inch of the exquisite body until the dark haired man awoke, but he knew that Peter needed to sleep. 

Egon retrieved an afghan from the hallway closet and covered his friend with it.  Peter sighed gently, as he snuggled into the warmth. Egon proceeded downstairs to prepare some dinner and to get away from the temptation. 

When the food was ready, Egon returned to the lab to find the couch unoccupied.  Egon looked in the bunkroom next, but Peter wasn't in there.  Egon decided that his missing companion was somewhere in the building; he would have told him if he were going out. 

He finally discovered his friend in his office, working on the company checkbook.  "I obviously have to purchase a collar and bell for you. How did you get by me?"  Peter smiled up at his friend.           

"You were sitting on the couch reading Winston's book.  A herd of elephants could have charged through there and you wouldn't have noticed them. Just give me one second and I'll be finished with all of this.  A certain mouthy secretary was nagging me to get a start on the backlog, before she starting muttering about you. " Peter's hand reached up to rub his tired eyes. "I could have slept for a month up there, but ...."  Peter closed the checkbook with a snap of his wrist.            

"Are we solvent?" Egon gestured toward the pile of bills neatly stacked on Peter's desk.

"Ya know that saying money talks?" Peter glanced upward and continued when he saw Egon's affirmative nod.  "Well, I've only ever heard it say good bye. Maybe we should use some of the R&D money to buy lottery tickets."             

Peter and Egon proceeded up the stairs to where Egon had set out some soup and sandwiches.   They sat down and ate the dinner, each man was lost in his own thoughts, but the silence was a comfortable one. 

During the cleanup, the phone rang.  Peter answered it as Egon put away the dishes. When he was finished, he saw Peter placing the phone on the table and he made his way to the other man's side.           

"That was Winston.  A fog bank rolled in, so he can't dock the ship. Nadine and him are gonna stay over on it tonight. They're hoping that the fog will clear up in the morning."           

Egon moved closer to Peter and wrapped his arms around him.  "Raymond also called.  He is spending the night at a friend's." Egon rubbed his hand slowly down Peter's back, till it rested on his friend's buttock.  "I wonder how we will pass the evening..." Peter's eye's widened in shock as the hand squeezed suggestively.  He looked up at the taller man, into the cobalt blue eyes that seemed to glow with arousal.           

"I can think of a few things to occupy you, Dr Spengler.  The last one upstairs is a slimy gooper!!" Peter called out as he wiggled out of the embrace to charge up the stairs.  Egon rushed to catch up.  Both men attempted to undress as they ran into the bunkroom.           

When Egon had finished pulling off his shoes, he slid out of the last articles of clothing and glanced up from his position on the floor.  Peter lay on the bed, waiting for him.  As he lay beside him, Egon enquired, "So, how do you plan to entertain me, Dr. Venkman?"           

Peter turned on his side to face the other man.  His eyes studied Egon's body for a moment before he looked into the sky blue eyes watching him.  Peter smiled mysteriously before his hands began tracing the muscle groups on the slim body and to tangle in the soft, blond chest hair.  His lips followed the path that his hands traced.           

Egon leaned against the pillow so that he could watch the man's progress.  He moaned when Peter's tongue traced over a nipple.  Egon gasped when the skilled mouth began to suck.  He was stunned by the sensations of pleasure that Peter's mouth and wandering hands were evoking. 

Peter's mouth slowly slid down the man's stomach, where it probed his navel.  Small sounds of pleasure were emanating from Egon.  Peter stopped to stare at his ultimate target before his lips descended onto Egon's throbbing manhood.  As he sucked it into his mouth, he used his right hand to hold his friend down.  He pursed his lips to apply pressure as he let the organ thrust out of his mouth.  He heard Egon moaning and smiled before he gave the organ a final lick.  He used his tongue to trace a wet trail up the luscious body.  When he reached Egon's lips, he kissed them gently.            

The blue eyes opened behind the man's somewhat fogged lenses.  Peter leaned down to whisper into Egon's ear. "Are you entertained?" Egon nodded and Peter continued, "I need you, Egon.  I guess...I need to know that you're really here with me." Peter began to suck on the delectable earlobe beside his mouth.           

I would do anything to please this man, Egon realized.  As the thought filtered through his mind, Egon comprehended the remarkable fact that he was in love with Peter; unconditionally and inescapably in love.  

"Tell me what you need, my love." Egon coaxed Peter's head away from his ear and gently maneuver it until the men were face to face.  He caught his breath as he focused on Peter's face.  His skin was slightly flushed and his hair was in disarray.  He looks unbelievably sexy and utterly bedable, Egon concluded.            

"I need to be one with you, Egon. I want you inside of me tonight.  Fuck me, Egon." When Egon heard the request a surge of shock and excitement traveled through his body.  He had never expected the request; just the concept of fulfilling it made Egon have trouble drawing breath. He placed his hands around the beloved face and whispered, "Whatever you need, I will provide," as his mouth descended on Peter's opened lips. 

Egon used his strength to gently roll Peter onto his back, so that Egon was resting on top of him. He enjoyed the sensation of being on top of the heated flesh. Peter had always seemed so alone and in need of protection and Egon believed that he could shelter the sensitive man from this position.  It also felt unbelievable good to be in control of the action, too.  

He looked at the man lying beneath him and understood that he would never want to be with anyone else but Peter; he had found what he needed to make his life complete. He reached out a hand to caress Peter's face.  He was rewarded when Peter smiled gently up at him, love and trust radiated in his exotic eyes. Egon leaned down and sucked on the delectable bottom lip before his tongue slid into Peter's mouth to continue the mind-numbing kissing.  Egon had trouble thinking, as the kisses continued.  He could only focus on the heat--the hunger, which was making his body tremble with desire.           

He could have gone on kissing Peter forever, but he wanted to fulfill the man's request.  The idea of possessing this man, of claiming him, was overwhelming. 

Egon separated his mouth from Peter's to kiss his way to the tender skin of his ear.  He nipped at the tender skin and used his tongue to sooth the soft flesh. 

Egon had seen so many people try and fail to claim this man's heart.  And now it was being offered to him!  Egon vowed that he would do anything to please this man who had become an essential part of Egon's life.  He began to prepare the body beneath him as he whispered, "Your wish is my command."  Peter's hands tangled in his hair in anticipation.   Egon stated into the passion glazed eyes as he thrust and finally merged with the other half of his soul. 

 

Egon sighed in contentment and snuggled under the warm covers.  When he recalled the previous evening's activities, he sighed in satisfaction; Peter had entertained him quite well, several times during the long night.  Egon stretched out an arm, but his arm didn't encounter another body, much to Egon's surprise.  He opened his eyes and sat up.  The place beside him was empty, and so was the rest of the room. 

Egon got up and took a shower before he began to look for Peter.  He had searched throughout the fire hall, and there was no sign of the man.  This activity is not pleasurable. Where is he? he wondered.  

Thunder interrupted Egon's speculations.  The only place that he hadn't looked for the man was on the roof.  He glanced out the window and noticed the rain pouring down.  Egon couldn't understand why the man would go out in the inhospitable weather, but that seemed to be the only logical place left to look. Egon grabbed an umbrella before he ventured out in the storm.           

He saw Peter huddled over, sitting on the ledge of the roof.  He wasn't wearing a coat even though the wind whipped at his clothes.  His chin rested on his drawn up knees and his arms were wrapped around his legs.  Rain had saturated his hair and his clothes, but nothing seemed to disturb the utter stillness of the pathetic figure.           

Egon walked cautiously toward the man and positioned the large umbrella so that it covered both of their bodies.  Peter shivered, but he didn't raise his head or attempt to climb to his feet.  Long experience with the man allowed Egon to know that Peter would have to initiate the conversation.  If Egon began questioning him, he knew that Peter would just shut him out with a glib comment.           

Finally Peter whispered, "I've never been unfaithful to him...never!  I flirt...to tease him, but I would never betray his trust." 

Egon squinted his eyes as he tried to make sense of the cryptic statement.  Sometimes, Peter's thought processes were difficult for him to comprehend.  Egon finally shook his head in confusion. "Excuse me?" he inquired.           

Peter continued to stare into space as he continued to speak in a soft voice. "I've always had a reputation as a walking hormone; hell, I reveled in the reputation but deep down I knew I was scared shitless to let someone get close...to take a risk.  My priority was the sex, and that was that. When Egon and I became lovers, I knew that he was it. I had found the person that I wanted to spend my life with, and I never catted around after that."  Peter rubbed the palm of his hand across his eyes.  "Now I feel like a scuz, because I did betray him...unintentionally, but I did."           

Egon sat down beside the man on the ledge, ignoring the moisture that seeped through his pants. He placed a hand on his friend's dejected shoulder.  Peter pivoted around to face him.           

"I was so relieved when you woke up that I ignored my instincts, the inconsistencies that no one but me would notice. Egon and my relationship has become so symbiotic that I couldn't function without him.  I wanted…no, I needed to believe that he had come back to me." 

Peter stared into the familiar blue eyes. "You don't have the scar. I unconsciously noticed the difference last night, I think.  It all came together this morning, when I leaned over to cover you with the blanket."  His hand traced over Egon's shoulder. "You don't have the scar," he whispered dejectedly.            

Egon reached out his free hand to snag his friend arm in order to pull the shivering man toward his body.  Peter put his head on Egon's shoulder and began to weep.  Egon rubbed his back, trying to comfort the distraught man.  He didn't know what to say.           

He was stunned by the man's revelations.  He tested the theory in his mind and decided that it was the logical solution.  The memory loss wasn't a result of the injury; he had never experienced those events, the Egon if this universe had.  That Egon was Peter's lover, and he belonged with him. Egon sighed regretfully as a cold sensation--the feeling of loss, spread through his body. 

He had always loved his Peter, but he had never had the courage to discuss his feeling with his friend; he had always feared the revelations would be unwelcome. He feared alienating his friend, making their relationship awkward so he'd never taken the risk.

Those excuses had been his justification for his silence.  Now that he knew what it was like to be loved by Peter, the loss devastated him.            

When Peter had initiated the kiss in the lab, Egon had assumed that the feelings of desire stemmed from Peter's relief to have Egon back.  Egon had thought the lab would be their first time making love and it had been...for him. 

Egon knew that he needed to get back to his place, to his best friends.  He would miss being able to physically express his love for his friend, but this wasn't really his friend. 

Egon hugged Peter tighter before he released him.  He leaned forward, until his nose was almost touching the other man. "You know, the enormous size of your ego never fails to astonish me."  Peter's eyes widened in shock, as Egon continued. "How could you possibly have recognized that I wasn't the man that you loved? Have you suddenly become omnipotent while I wasn't looking? Four other adults, including my mother failed to recognize any inconsistencies, yet you believe that you should have known?" 

Peter smiled gently, which is what Egon had intended. "I should start taking gymnastics, so that I can become flexible enough to kick my own ass.  It would save you so much effort." Peter reached up to brush the dripping hair out of his eyes. "Thanks, Spengs." 

Egon used the man's shoulder to brace him as he stood up.  He held out his hand, to assist his friend. When Peter was on his feet, Egon concluded, "I am confident that you'll find the right way to tell him what happened and he'll understand. He loves you, believe me, I know."  

Both men huddled together under the umbrella as they scurried inside. Rain dripped down the lenses of Egon's glasses as both men began to walk back into the building.  He looked around the room and his eyes came to rest on the bookshelf.  Egon knew the possibility was remote but he was desperate. "We'll look through Ray's collection until we find a method."           

Peter groaned in response to his statement. "Jeez, that will take forever. Some things never change--no matter where you are, you're always putting me to work." 

"Someone has to," Egon retorted humorously. 

Peter reached up and slipped the glasses off of the physicist's face. He used the dry edge of Egon's shirt to wipe off the lenses, before he placed them back on his friend's long nose. With his finger, he pushed the glasses back into position.  He looked up into the exasperated blue eyes, peering down at him and smirked. "Does your Peter do that?" Peter inquired.           

Egon's eyes darkened at the memory. "Yes, he does.  Even though I have repeatedly requested that he refrain that compulsion."  Egon grabbed a heavy stack of books from a nearby shelf and dumped them into Peter's extended arms. "Place these on the table and then go and change your clothes.  Raymond will be quite upset with you if you drip liquid all over these rare texts." 

Peter placed the books down gently on the table and pivoted around gracefully to salute the amused physicist.  He was pulling the wet sweater over his head as he left the room.

 

Peter finished his struggle to read through the ancient Latin in the spellbook.  He placed the book on a convenient table, before he inquired, "So, what's next, Spengs?"

"Now, when you clap your hands, the transfer spell should go into effect. If everything goes as I expect, which it should."  Egon turned and walked to the center of the room, where the men had drawn a pentagram using Ray's colored chalk.  

"Do I have to tap my heels, too?" Peter asked. 

Egon knew that Peter was trying to lighten the mood, but Egon could hear the nervousness in the other man's voice.  Peter didn't know what effect the spell would have on his Egon; the physicist knew that the worry for the missing man was dominating the other man's thoughts. Egon said a silent prayer for the man in front of him and for the man that he would never meet. 

"No, Dorothy," Egon retorted. "All that you have to do is clap." Egon paused as he stared into the other man's eyes. "I will never forget you." 

Peter averted his face from the knowing gaze.  His lips quivered as he fought back the deep emotions that made the lithe body tremble. He took a deep breath and got his emotions under control again.  Then he turned to face Egon again. 

"I'll miss you, big guy," Peter whispered. 

"Good bye, Dr Venkman." 

Solemn eyes returned Egon's intent stare. "Good bye, Dr Spengler," Peter declared. 

He attempted to break the tension by winking. "Now make sure that you give your Peter a big kiss when you get home, big guy," Peter said as he clapped his hands. Light erupted from his fingers to engulf the physicist.           

I just might do that, Egon decided as his awareness faded. I just might do that...someday.

 

The first sensation that Egon was aware of was the softness propping up his head.  He sighed and snuggled into it.  His soft cushion was breathing softly and smelled of the subtle cologne that Peter habitually wore.  This is pleasant, Egon decided as he began to open his eyes. The first things that he saw were brilliant green eyes studying him with concern. "We have to stop meeting like this," Egon whispered.  His efforts were rewarded when a relieved grin formed on his friend's face.           

"Hey, are you all right?" Peter asked.           

Egon sighed in relief as he processed the fact that he was sitting on the ground, with his head and torso leaning back against his friend.  Egon glanced down at his body, which was sprawled inelegantly on the cement. "Um, I think so."           

Egon tried to straighten up, when a wave of vertigo assailed his senses. Hmm, maybe I'll just keep lying here, he decided.  He took the opportunity to gaze around him from his comfortable position.  Two women were sitting on his left side, dressed in period costumes.  One woman was weeping uncontrollably while the other tried to calm her agitation.             

Then he saw it.  An old book lay opened at her feet, abandoned. Suddenly he knew exactly where he was and what had to be done.           

Keeping his eyes focused on the distracted woman, he stealthily reached out his hand till he could feel the cover of the book under his probing fingers.  When he had a secure grip on it, he slowly lifted the text and brought it closer to himself.  He shoved the book under his legs and draped his coat over his body, which concealed the volume.            

"What are you doing?" a voice whispered softly near his ear. 

Egon looked over his shoulder into the puzzled countenance. "Trust me," he mouthed. His friend shrugged and nodded.  They had been a team for so long that Peter obeyed the request without hesitation. Trust had not always been something that Peter was capable of giving, but the man propped up against him had never let him down.  He was confident that Egon had a good reason for his actions, so he was more than willing to sit back and watch events unfold.           

Suddenly, the woman clutched Egon's arm in a death grip. "I didn't know this would happen...I didn't know!" she wailed.           

"Well, there's the problem."  Egon sat up suddenly and he began to point his finger in the girl's face. 

"If you possessed a shred of common sense you would have anticipated something like this happening.  When you play with incendiary devices, you should expect to be oxidized."  He nodded his head in satisfaction.  The strident tones shocked the young woman into silence.           

"Jeez, buddy."  The other woman wrapped her arm around the stunned woman. "Give Mindy a break.  She's had a tough day.  First, some clown screamed at her on the phone over a teeny tiny mistake with his account. Then, she was just starting to have fun at the game when that freaky light show happened".  She rubbed her friend's shoulder gently. "She's had a really tough day."           

Egon was momentarily robbed of the power of speech, but not for long. "She's had a tough---"  He sputtered in exasperation. Then the woman's words registered.   "Did you say...Mindy?"  Both women nodded. "Ohhhh, I've wanted to meet you, Mindy.  I've longed to give you a piece of my mind, since you seem to lack one. You inept, idi---".  A hand suddenly clamped over his mouth and another hand grabbed his arm in a viselike grip.           

"Mindy.  My friend's been having a hell of a day, too.  I suggest that you and your friend get out of Dodge. Quick. Cause in fifteen seconds, I'm letting go."  The two women looked toward each other. Within seconds they leapt to their feet and scurried away, cloaks flying behind them in their haste.           

Egon grabbed the hand covering his mouth and shoved it away. " That was unnecessary, Dr. Venkman."  Egon rose to his feet.  Peter's hand whipped out to take the book when he saw Egon reaching for it.  He flipped it opened to the bookmarked page and scanned the contents as he easily evaded Egon's attempts to retrieve the text.  When he was done, he closed the book and handed it to his friend.            

Egon clasped the book tightly to his chest, as he tried to think of a way to articulate everything that had happened to him.  He stared at his friend and noticed the way the park lights reflected off of his silky hair.  He felt the longing to hold the man permeate his body, but he suppressed the urge.  Egon decided that his relationship with the other Peter would be omitted from the initial explanations.            

"I think we should hail a taxi.  I won't feel comfortable until this book is in the containment unit and I am safely ensconced in my bed."  Egon shook his head and grimaced. "It's been a long day."           

Peter tried to keep pace with Egon's quick strides. "It's about time you listened to my good advice." He nudged Egon with his shoulder and the two friends began to laugh.

               

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