By the way, the titles of all the movies? Are real. These winners were playing on USA late-night the winter I was writing this story. Some things are stranger than fiction....
Payment Due
The 747 was making its final descent. Lia buckled her seatbelt, humming to herself almost inaudibly. She felt like a cat about to get a special treat, happy and anticipatory. She was going to see Justin again.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please observe that the captain has turned on the no-smoking sign and the seatbelt sign in preparation for our landing at John F. Kennedy Airport. Please extinguish all smoking materials and bring your chair to the full upright position..."
Lia looked out the window at the Manhattan skyline, still dark, although dawn was less than an hour away. Lights shimmered along the coast, illuminating buildings and the Statue of Liberty in the distance. Soon, very soon, she would be holding her baby in her arms.
She smiled to herself, trying to calm down. Of course, he's not really your baby. But he was, in everything that mattered. Maybe he wasn't the child of her flesh, but he was the child of her blood, child of her love. Hijo de mi corazon, she thought with love. Child of my heart.
He was the youngest of her initiates, the last one she had made, one of the few to survive the cruelties of the world. Of all the other young vampires, he was her favorite. There were so few of them anyway, the ones who lived became all the more precious to her. When the initiation took place, a choice was made: death, or undeath. Many did not have the strength of character to survive the change, and died. Some became pitiful zombies which she destroyed. A very few others joined her in the vampiric life. They were so rare, those ones, so priceless.
A pity she would have to discipline him when she arrived, but it was necessary. He simply couldn't be allowed to make the mistake he was going to.
He'd written her two months ago, the letter was still in her purse. He was in love. Or in lust, for him it was the same thing. It had happened before. But this time, this time he was actually contemplating initiating the young woman in question. Never mind that he was far from ready to be responsible for a fledgling vampire, never mind he hadn't even told her yet what he was, never mind he wouldn't be able to take proper care of her. He would do what he would do. Lia shook her head. So arrogant, so confident. That had always been his besetting sin. Forget anything else about Justin, any other mistakes he had made; his belief that he was equal to a vampire three times his age and experience, and deserved the same privileges and powers, was always responsible for their disagreements.
She sighed, leaning her head against the window. Much as she looked forward to seeing him, she was not looking forward to the coming confrontation. Lia hated arguing with him, because she loved him so much. He was her sweetheart, her baby. The vampire smiled, stretching, remembering. Her lover. Once she was through convincing him he should not convert the girl--Janine, was it?--there would be ample time to enjoy each other's company. Vampire to vampire. With him, as with other vampires, she would not have to hold anything back. It would be a relief. Sometimes it was hard to restrain herself with humans, hard to remember how fragile they were.
"Thank you for flying Continental Airlines Paris to New York non-stop. Please choose us again. Passengers should remain in their seats until the plane has come to a complete stop..."
Lia put on her sunglasses and wrapped her cloak around herself, just in case the first rays of light were hitting New York City. With any luck, she would be in her limousine and on her way to Justin's long before it came over the horizon, but it was always wise to be prepared where the sun was concerned.
She disembarked, looking around the terminal for a familiar face, and spotted one almost immediately. "Murphy! How good to see you!" Lia embraced a fiftyish, heavyset man in a chauffeur's uniform, his hair gold with a touch of gray.
"Always a pleasure to see you again, madam. Shall we collect your luggage, or would you prefer that Matthew and Robert fetch it?" He smiled, looking down at his employer. Even though he knew why she never changed, it always amazed him that she remained the same. Black, black hair, spilling down her back, with no trace of gray; black eyes under straight brows; high, sharp cheekbones over a pointed chin; tall (almost 5'10") patrician body with no weakness, strong as steel; same husky voice, with just a trace of Spanish accent. Unchanging, eternal, immortal. Beautiful.
"Let them fetch it. I want to see Justin before sunrise. "
Murphy passed the claim ticket to two young men in their twenties who could have posed for World Wrestling Federation posters, then fell into step with Lia. "As to that, madam, there is a slight problem... "
"Problem?" Lia asked, when they reached the car. Murphy held the door to the limousine open for her. "What kind of problem?"
"He seems to have disappeared, madam. Do you wish to be taken to his apartment anyway?"
"Yes," Lia said, settling into the back seat of the limo. "And quickly, it is almost sunrise." As the limousine rolled through the streets of Manhattan, she asked with growing concern, "Fill me in on what has happened, Murphy. When did he disappear? What happened?"
Murphy pursed his lips, not bothering to look in the rear-view mirror. She never showed up in it anyway. "About three weeks ago, Mr. Tremaine's agent became concerned when he didn't return her calls and missed an important deadline for one of his artworks. She and his manager went over to his apartment and, upon entering, found him not at home. No one has heard from him in over a month, he left no messages for any of his associates, and none of his belongings are missing. His bank account is intact, and there is no reason to believe he simply left on a trip. " Murphy took a breath, then said hesitantly, "The police suspect foul play."
Lia let her breath out in a hiss. "Fools," she said softly. Then: "What do you believe has become of him?"
"I don't know, madam. If I didn't know better, I would say he was hiding. But if that were the case he certainly would have gotten in touch with us, since he knew you were coming to New York this April. He would have asked for our help. Frankly, I'm worried."
Lia looked out the window. The sky was just beginning to turn gold. "Hurry, Murphy. I must know what has happened to Justin."
Lia climbed out of the limo and strode to the elevator in the underground parking garage. She pressed the button for Justin's floor, holding her breath, praying he was all right, that he had left some sign for her in his apartment. The police were occasionally incompetent but, more than that, if Justin were hiding he would not have left any clues for the police to follow up.
The doors to the elevator opened and Lia stalked down the hall, the key to Justin's apartment in her hand. She stopped short at his apartment door.
POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS POLICE LINE DO NOT CROSS...
Lia bit her lip. Justin was all right. The police were wrong. The vampire tore at the tape across his door, angrily letting it flutter to the hallway floor, and put her key in the lock. She opened the door, stepped inside, and locked it behind her, then turned around. At first glance, nothing was amiss. None of his artworks were missing, and nothing was disarranged or broken. Then she saw the window.
Hurrying across, Lia stared at it. Plywood covered the space where there had once been a huge picture window, through which Justin had loved to look out over the city. Shards of broken glass still littered the floor Remembering what Murphy had said in the car about foul play, her breath caught in her throat. As she swallowed, her eyes tearing, she studied the statue in front of the window, the statue he had done of her almost two centuries ago. Then she looked again, her attention caught.
Another statue was standing next to hers, side by side. It was the same size, and it was definitely Justin's work, but it was extremely dissimilar to the statue of herself. Hers was ebony, a study of her facing into the wind; this one was done in alabaster of another young woman, sheltering herself from the wind in a cloak. She had a fragile, breakable air to her, but the lines of the statue hinted at unexpected strength in the model. Lia recognized the subject as the woman Justin had thought of initiating - Janine Melnitz. He'd sent a Polaroid of her with the letter he'd written. She suddenly felt afraid for Justin, more afraid than she had felt in years. Why wasn't he here? What had happened to him?
Lia walked over the couch on shaky legs, sitting down carefully. She took a breath, closed her eyes and concentrated on Justin.
Nothing. Stifling a sob, she got a grip on herself and put her entire soul into a mental call to him. Justin. Justin, where are you, mi querido? There was no trace of him.
Lia opened her eyes, feeling barren and bleak. The tie between herself and the vampires she had created was strong enough that if he had been in New York, or even anywhere on the Eastern Seaboard, he would have answered. Even if he could not have answered she would have felt his presence, his essence, somewhere in the world. Instead, there was nothing but emptiness where Justin had once been.
The vampire felt as if some part of her soul had been ripped out of her, leaving a pulsing ache. Something had happened to Justin. He was truly gone. But how? When? How could something have happened to him?
She opened her purse, taking out the letter he had written to her two months ago, smoothing it out, reading it once again.
Lia m'love,
As usual, New York is too cold to be enjoyed this time of year. I'm trying to ignore it by immersing myself in my work and my involvement with a new young woman. She is passionate, lively, fun to be with, and practically perfect. Her name is Janine Melnitz, and she is secretary to the Ghostbusters. I know, I know, I can hear you complaining right now that it's too big a risk, but I think she's worth the possibility I will be discovered. She has such life, such vitality... a real relief after Violet. What a mistake she was.
I'm currently working on a companion piece to the one I did of you, this one in alabaster, with Janine as the model. It should be quite something when it's finished. As will Janine be, after I've transformed her into one of us. I'm sure she'll be willing. I want you to meet her as soon as possible, I should be ready to initiate her in April when you're visiting. I'm confident she will join us; after all given a choice between mortality, death, and boredom, and immortality, eternal youth, and my love, which would any sane woman choose?
I recently heard from Therese, and she wondered if you had heard anything about Jean-Pierre. Myself, I've heard several wild rumors to the effect that he's a) become a police officer b) become a male prostitute in Detroit (!!) c) killed himself jumping in the Thames last fall. I can't say I care much either way. Aside from you, m'love, I have little use for our brethren. So many of them seem unable or unwilling to fully indulge in their natures, drinking bottled blood, trying to see the sun, whining for mortality... madness. They live in the shadows, instead of stepping into the night. The happiest day of my life was the day I died. I wouldn't change a thing.
Come back soon, my love. I want you to meet our newest sister. As ever, Justin
Lia looked up from the letter, tears rolling unchecked down her face. Something had happened to him between the time he wrote the letter, and three weeks later when the police examined his apartment. Someone had killed him.
She stared across the room at the statue of Janine, then rose to look at it again. Her. She would know, she thought. He loved her so much, he was so involved with her... if anyone would know anything, it would be Janine Melnitz.
I'll find her. I'll find out what happened to my baby. She'll be able to tell me something. And then... Lia smiled grimly. And then I will make those responsible pay. And pay. And pay.
Janine Melnitz was studying an old newspaper. She was planning on taking it along to her group therapy meeting that night. The tabloid heading read "Ghostbuster Secretary in Sex Scandal." Below the headline was a picture of herself in a hospital chair, being wheeled out of St. Vincent's by Peter. What it didn't show was Egon punching out the photographer two seconds later.
Expressionlessly, Janine folded up the tabloid and put it in her purse. It had been six weeks since the events on Valentine's Day, and a week since the police had returned to ask some hard questions of the Ghostbusters. Sidney Price had been by Justin Tremaine's apartment the week after the attack, and upon seeing the mess there had realized Justin was definitely missing. The police hadn't taken it seriously until a week ago, his continued absence had finally killed any speculation that Justin was just temporarily gone. Now they suspected foul play.
Ray came bouncing down the staircase, whistling happily until he saw the non-expression on Janine's face. He and the other guys had seen it often enough in the past few weeks to be able to easily interpret it as something to do with Justin. "You okay, Janine?" he asked, walking toward the receptionist's desk.
Janine raised an eyebrow, then rearranged the papers on her desk. "How did your interview with Sergeant Brainard go?" she asked quietly.
Ray's face cleared of concern. "Fine. No problems. You've really got to quit worrying about it. The police are never going to connect his disappearance with us."
"They already have, Ray," Janine snapped. "They just don't have any proof. Thanks to Sidney's blabbing, they know he was involved with me. If they had anything solid to tie it to you guys we'd all be in jail!"
Ray looked distressed, trying to think of the right thing to say. "Has one of those reporters been bothering you again? Look, they're just fishing. They don't know anything. Most of them think he disappeared on his own."
"And the rest wonder if we had something to do with it." Janine's face crumpled. She took a shaky breath. "I wish I hadn't gotten you guys into so much trouble."
Ray took her hand, trying to comfort her. Things really weren't all that bad, there was no evidence they'd ever been in Justin's apartment or were in any way responsible for his disappearance. "It'll be okay. It will. Pretty soon they'll give up. Things will go back to normal."
"I wish we could tell them the truth," Janine said quietly. Glimpsing the disbelieving look on Ray's face, she said remorsefully, "Not really, Ray. Of course I don't want to get you in trouble, or the others. But all this lying is taking its toll."
"All we have to do is keep our stories straight. You left Justin's apartment and you were attacked in the park. You don't remember what happened after you were hit on the head. Winston found you there, because we were looking for you when you didn't show up at work for a late shift. Simple!" Ray smiled.
Unwillingly, Janine smiled back. For Ray, it was simple. But for Janine the lingering guilt of having involved the guys in her problems with Justin Tremaine made the lying difficult. She wanted to confess everything and get it over with. Except, she reminded herself, you won't be the one to pay if that happens. Ray and Egon and Winston and Peter will. The police are having a hard enough time believing they didn't make Justin 'disappear' already. Imagine their reaction if you brought 200-year-old vampires into the discussion.
"All right, Ray. I'll look on the bright side. I'll believe that tomorrow is another day. The police won't arrest anyone, Justin will rest in peace, and we'll get on with our lives. Right?"
"Right!" Ray said exuberantly, going down the stairs toward the basement. "Don't worry, Janine. It'll work out."
Nothing will ever be the same again though, Janine thought. Nothing.
The next evening Lia sat in her office in the penthouse she rented in New York City, looking over a folder of clippings and fax sheets Murphy had obtained for her. Most of them were dated around the middle of February to the beginning of March, dealing with the disappearance of Justin Tremaine and the hospitalization of Janine Melnitz.
That had shaken Lia. On Valentine's Day, around midnight, Janine Melnitz had been checked into St. Vincent's hospital with massive blood loss and hypothermia. The doctor's report had stated she looked like a wild animal had ripped at her throat, draining her of blood. A tabloid from around the same time made some sleazy allegation about "Ghostbuster Secretary in Sex Scandal", but there were no follow-up articles.
An article dated March 9 boasted the headline "Famous Sculptor Does Vanishing Act." It went on to speculate the disappearance was a hoax cooked up by Justin and his agent, Sidney Price, to raise the prices on Tremaine's artwork. Another newspaper piece, dated two weeks later (a week ago, Lia thought) stated the police now suspected foul play and were pursuing their investigations, and anyone with information pertaining to the case should contact the police immediately.
Lia paged back to the information on Janine Melnitz. Justin must have tried to initiate her and failed, she guessed. That he had then gone on to nearly kill the girl disturbed her. What could have made him try to hurt someone he had grown to love? What had she done? Threatened to expose him? Provoked him beyond endurance? What?
The picture in the tabloid bore little resemblance to the Polaroid Justin had sent. Janine Melnitz lay pale and weak on a hospital stretcher, her neck swathed in bandages, extremely unlike the vivacious girl in Justin's photo. The article said she was the receptionist and secretary to the Ghostbusters, New York's Paranormal Removal Professionals.
Lia's lips tightened. She had been worried when Justin had written to her about that. Not that he couldn't take care of himself, but that they would discover Justin was a vampire. Perhaps, she thought with a shiver, they did find out. Perhaps they 'dealt' with him the same way they deal with harmless specters. . . with technology and violence.
Slamming the file shut, Lia drummed her fingers on the cover, thinking, then she pushed her intercom button. "Murphy, will you please come in here? I need you."
Murphy entered with alacrity. Lia smiled at him. It was so rare to find a human you could count on. He reminded her of her father's retainers, when she had been young, when she had been alive. A loyal servant. There weren't many humans that could be relied on in this world. Too many would serve strictly out of fear, or for gain - it was so rare to find one who understood the give and take between lord and servant, the complex relationship and dependence between the nobility and their people. She was lucky to have Murphy. He was as loyal, unquestioning, bright and obedient as his father had been.
"I need you to find out whatever you can about Janine Melnitz. Who her friends are, where she goes, what she does in her off hours, anything. I am going to have to get close to this young woman and see if she knows what became of Justin."
"Very good, madam. I'll put Matthew and Robert on it right away. Will there be anything else?"
"Yes. See if you can find out anything of value about the Ghostbusters. Something tells me they may know more than the police think they do about Justin and Janine, and what happened last Valentine's Day."
Janine Melnitz hurried into the 5th Street clinic as the very last rays of sunlight were hitting the lobby, unbuttoning her coat as she walked through the door. "Sorry I'm late," she said as she entered the back room, sitting down in an empty chair. "I got hung up at work."
"No problem, Janine." Rae, the group leader, smiled her wide smile at Janine as she got settled. "I was just about to introduce our newest member. Ladies, this is Lia Escobar."
"Hello," said the young woman shyly, ducking her head. Janine sized her up. Semi-rich, because her clothes weren't flashy, but they were well-cut; attractive, and knew it - she had that kind of self-confidence; and nervous. This was probably the first time she had come to a group therapy session.
"Lia, you don't have to share anything your first night here, we just want you to know you're not alone and that other people are going through the same thing. But if you feel like speaking up, go right ahead, that's what we're here for," Rae continued, gesturing to the rest of the group.
"Thanks," said Lia, smiling softly around at the assembled women. She had gone to a great deal of trouble to get here, the precautions she had taken to avoid sunlight in daytime alone were out of the ordinary. But if this risk paid off, the reward might be Justin's killer.
"Is there anything in particular anyone wants to share this week?" Rae asked. Janine shifted uncomfortably. There had been something she'd wanted to bring up, but she didn't know how. She hated to report anything that might not be considered progress, but if she was going to get the opinions and help she needed she was going to have to tell about her latest date.
"Janine?" Rae asked, cocking her head. "What's on your mind?"
Janine let out a breath, and twisted her hands together. "Welll... I had a date last night."
"How'd it go?" asked Sharon, one of the other members who'd been in group for about three months.
Janine grimaced. "Not good. I mean, nothing bad happened, but... Look, I'll tell you about it, and you tell me if I handled it right, okay?" Nods all around the group. "I met this guy through a friend of mine, Denise, she works at a law office. He's one of their clients and he got divorced recently. So, anyway, Denise introduced him to me at the office when I went by there a week ago and he asked me out." Janine shifted her weight, trying to get a feel for how to go on. "It was okay. The date, I mean. He paid for dinner and then we went to a movie. He seemed nice. Just nice, nothing else. After the movie, he made a pass at me. I turned him down, nicely, I might add. Then he starts getting insulting. He started going on about how I owed him something, like dinner was such a treat I ought to go to bed with him just because of that. I kinda lost it." She looked sheepish. Janine wasn't real proud of the next part. On the other hand, it was a lot better than going along with the jerk, like I might have with Justin...
"Lost it how?" Rae asked.
"I called him a sleazoid jerk. Then I started on about how no woman in the 20th century had to do something she didn't want to, and his attitude was absolutely scummy, and if he thought that dinner entitled him to anything more than a thank-you he had a lot of growing up to do, and then I threatened to kick his teeth in."
"All right!" Helen and Wanda were cheering and grinning.
Janine looked a little surprised. "You don't think I was overreacting? I mean, I know he had it coming but I thought maybe threatening to kick his teeth in was a bit much..." But I couldn't take someone telling me what to do! Who did that guy think he was, anyway?
Rae shook her head. "Janine, anything that makes you feel uncomfortable is something you have a right to protect yourself from. If you were feeling threatened and the guy was acting like a jerk, then you had the right to express yourself. Maybe threatening him was too much. I wasn't there, you were. But by the same token, you had to judge what was appropriate. How did this make you feel?"
Janine thought. "Really, really angry. And upset."
"How did he react to what you said?" asked Rae.
"He looked..." Janine paused a moment, trying to remember. "Upset. With himself, I think. He did apologize. He said the divorce was making him mad, and he was sorry he took it out on me. I was way too angry to accept his apology, though."
"Why do you think that was, Janine?" asked Sharon with curiosity.
"Because... I felt like I'd been had. I mean, he'd seemed nice, and then..." Janine trailed off. It was miles easier to talk about last night's encounter now than it had been to talk about Justin's attack eight weeks earlier. Partly because this was nowhere near as serious, but also because expressing the emotions connected with situations where someone had hurt her was much less difficult after weeks of therapy.
"And then he turned out to be a jerk. Boy, do I know how that feels," said Wanda. "I couldn't believe it when my boss started harassing me in private. He'd be so considerate in front of other people, and then be so gross when no one else was around. I felt betrayed, or something."
"Yeah!" said Janine. "That's it. I felt like he betrayed me, that I should have been able to tell he was a sleaze. It hurt, when he turned out to be like Justin." I was sure I'd learned something from that creep. I thought no one could ever fool me like that again, that I couldn't be taken in.
Lia's head came up sharply, looking at Janine with intensity. Rae was talking. "You shouldn't blame yourself, or feel angry because you misjudged someone. It sounds like that guy had his own problems and maybe next time he won't push them off on someone else. But you've got to realize, all of you, that you'll make mistakes about people in the future, too. That doesn't mean you shouldn't trust anyone; it just means you have to put it in perspective and realize it doesn't mean there's something wrong with you, or that the entire world is like that. Can anyone think of any ways we can handle this better?"
As the meeting went on, Lia listened but contributed nothing to the discussion until near the end, when Rae turned to her. "Lia, is there anything you want to tell us about yourself, now that you've gotten to know us better?"
Lia seemed to be choosing her words carefully. "What happened to me... happened a long time ago." Janine noticed that her voice was very precise, as if English wasn't her first language. The new member went on quietly, "I'm a computer programmer and I've just moved to Manhattan. I've been having nightmares lately and a friend recommended this therapy group. I want to be able to forget what happened, but I can't. Maybe next week, or the week after that, I'll be able to talk about it. Until then I need to know I'm not alone, and I need to know," she bit her lip, took a breath, "I need to know how other women cope with being hurt or raped by men."
Rae put a hand on her shoulder, and looked around the group. "Welcome to group, Lia. I hope we can help."
You already have, Lia thought, looking across at Janine.
Janine regarded Lia with sympathy. I wonder what happened to Lia?
It was two weeks later that Lia described to the group what had happened to her. She had carefully prepared a story to tell, which had not been difficult. Seven centuries of vampirism had brought her in close contact with the worst of human males all over the world. What she had decided to tell had actually happened to her. She was not, however, prepared for the group's reaction to her story, or her reaction to their concern.
"I was seventeen," Lia said, staring into her cup of coffee. "I told you this happened a long time ago, and it did. But recently I broke up with someone because I felt... trapped. He accused me of using my past as an excuse not to get involved with people. And then the nightmares started. So I thought perhaps I ought to explore that possibility when I came to New York."
"It doesn't matter how long ago it happened, Lia. If it's making you unhappy in the present, it's something you need to talk about. Just because it happened a long time ago doesn't mean you should be 'over it' already," Rae said.
Lia smiled at her gratefully, then went on. "It was at a party. A large party, a get-together between people in my father's company, some relatives, and some younger people in our community. In Italy. My family traveled a great deal." She took a sip of her coffee. "There was a man there, an older man. He was a friend of a friend of my father's. I thought he was romantic, exciting. Very handsome. His wife had died recently, and I thought he was so fascinating. I felt sorry for him."
She sighed, looked up at the group. "The party was at a very large villa in Florence. You could get lost in it. There were gardens and small pools outside. He asked me to go for a walk with him. We went outside, in the moonlight, and I was thinking how wonderful it was, how grown-up. He started to talk about his wife. How much he missed her, how he needed someone, how lonely he was." Her mouth twisted. She sneered, "Lonely. Oh, how lonely. He kissed me. I kissed him back, feeling sorry for him, and intrigued, and flattered. I didn't take it seriously, I thought he was so much older he couldn't possibly be truly interested in me. We walked a little farther." Lia found her hands were shaking, but she went on, caught up in the memory. "When we were out of sight of the house, when no one could hear me, he raped me. I was seventeen years old, he was friends with my father, and he raped me. He made me do things..." Lia dropped the coffee, unable to hold onto the cup any longer.
Janine was sitting next to her and grabbed her hands. Lia was still talking, a little calmer now. "What made it unbearable was that my parents blamed me. If I hadn't gone off with him, if I had stayed at the party, if I hadn't kissed him... My fault. A man like that would never, not without my saying something to make him think it was all right, why was I lying..."
Rae shook her head. "I am so sorry, Lia. We know exactly what you're talking about though, don't we, ladies? It's so much easier to believe it wouldn't have happened without the victim's cooperation, that it can't "just happen", and the person who was hurt gets blamed for something that was not their fault."
Wanda spoke up. "Like my mom, she asked me why I didn't just quit when it started, and said I had to have done something that made my boss think it was okay." The blonde turned in sympathy to Lia. "It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong."
Lia took a breath and glanced down to find Janine was still holding onto her hands. She looked the secretary in the face. "Thanks."
Janine let go of her hands, a little abashed, and then spoke. "I was lucky that way. My friends knew it wasn't my fault, and never said anything to make me think it was. They were great. Peter pointed something out to me. He said there was no way I could have known what was going to happen, the guy was stronger than I was, and it wasn't my fault the guy was a sleaze. You didn't do anything to make it happen, Lia. It might have happened anyway, or maybe it wouldn't have. You'll never know. But it wasn't your fault. The guy who hurt you is responsible for how hurt you were, not you."
Lia took a breath, looking around the group. "It is good to hear that. Even after all this time. I'm sorry I didn't do this sooner."
After the meeting, Lia stopped Janine at the door. "Janine..." she said hesitantly.
"Yeah?" Janine said, tugging on her coat.
"Could we go for a cup of coffee? I seem," gesturing to her stained skirt, "to have used up my allowance here. "
Janine grinned. "Sure. There's a place around the corner that's got great cherry-chocolate-cheesecake."
Lia rolled her eyes. "For cheesecake, I would walk through fire. Lead on, MacDuff."
Janine and Lia sat in a booth at the Bluebell Xpress, gulping down cups of extra-strong coffee. Lia regretfully declined the cheesecake, "On second thought, I'm on a diet." She smiled at Janine over her cup. "I want to thank you for what you said during group; I didn't think what had happened could hurt so much anymore, but it pained me enormously to remember it. I appreciate your saying what you did about it not being my fault."
"No problem. That's why we're in group, to help each other, right? You'd do the same for me," Janine replied easily. She changed the subject, a little uncomfortable with Lia's gratitude. "You said you were a computer programmer. Where do you work?"
"At Hunt & Evers, over on Washington. It's quiet, and I like the work. We do different kinds of programs. Some are accounting, some are computer disinfectant programs, and right now we have a major database project. What do you do for a living?" Lia asked, taking a sip of coffee.
"I'm secretary to the Ghostbusters." Janine grinned at the disbelieving expression on Lia's face. "That's right, those crazies on the TV. They're for real, though."
"Why do I find that hard to believe?" Lia asked, looking skeptical.
"Probably because they come on like con-artists. I swear it's on the up-and-up, though. You should come by some time, I'll show you," Janine offered.
"Maybe," Lia said doubtfully. "You mentioned your friends during the session. These are the men you work for, correct? Peter, and..."
"Egon, and Ray, and Winston. Yeah. They're great. They don't pay me enough, but other than that it's a kick. They were really terrific when the whole thing with Justin happened."
"Justin," repeated Lia thoughtfully. "He hurt you, and you trusted him. This was, what? Six months ago, a week ago?"
"Eight weeks ago," Janine said abruptly. She smiled to take the sting out of her answer. "I'm pretty much okay now, but I still go to group. It gives me people to talk to about it other than the guys. They're too close to me, and I don't want to dump on them all the time. I hope group helps you as much as it's helped me."
"Oh, it has helped," Lia said. "Just talking about it..." She remembered how it had been. Vincenzo biting her, forcing her to drink from his veins, forcing her to do other things, and then leaving her with a kiss. Waking in her cousins' crypt in Florence, confused, terrified, and so very, very hungry. Making her way out of the crypt, to the palazzo where her family was staying after the funeral. Her mother's scream of terror upon seeing her, the endless recriminations, the bloodlust. It had been beyond horror. It had been an almost endless nightmare for months afterward. It wasn't until much later that she learned her wish to live had been translated into the death-in-life that was being a vampire. The hunger and strength in her had not allowed her to die, even though she longed to, then and other times.
Janine tapped her hand. "Hey, you all right?" she asked, looking concerned.
Lia started. "I'm sorry, I was remembering. For the longest time I believed it was my fault. I thought I had come to terms with it. But now, to have told people about it and to be believed, it is, well," she took a breath, smiled ruefully. "It takes getting used to. "
"You're telling me," Janine said in understanding. "You'll get used to it, though. And things will get better once you start believing it wasn't your fault. Honest."
Lia smiled. "Things are already looking up. I have made a new friend, and that is always something to be glad of."
A week later, Lia steeled herself and opened the door to Ghostbuster's Central in one push. Ready or not, here I come. Lia walked over to Janine's desk smiling as Janine looked up from her computer screen, and was about to say something when she was distracted by a sound to her left.
"Takin' care of business, everyday! Takin' care of business, every way! I said Takin' care of business! That's all right! Takin' care of business, and workin' overtime! Look out!" A young man with brown hair flopping over his forehead came up the stairs that must have led to the basement, singing at the top of his lungs, eyes closed, fingers snapping, bopping away to the sounds of the Walkman on his head. He wore a jumpsuit with the name VENKMAN stenciled on the front, with various bits of unidentifiable green goo sticking to it at various places. As yet, he hadn't seen Lia.
Lia smiled at Janine, who was looking professional, hip and very smart. She was beginning to truly like Janine, and was hoping the secretary had nothing to do with Justin's death. The younger woman was very lively and fun, just as Justin had described her. Like now, when she was rolling her eyes at Lia to express her opinion of her employer's antics. He had to be... Peter, yes, Peter Venkman. If he lived up to everything Janine had said about him, he would probably ask her for a date as soon as he was aware she was in the room.
"Yeah!" Peter went into a air-guitar solo, which broke off, one leg and one arm in the air, when he noticed Lia. Janine smirked behind him.
"Hi, Lia. Glad you came by. I wanted to show you around the place before we went to the movies." Janine grinned. Peter was trying to look debonair, giving little nods to Janine to introduce him to her, but Lia could see that Janine wasn't about to make it easy on him. She smiled, amused.
"Janine, why don't you introduce me to - Dr. Venkman?" Lia asked, holding out her hand to Peter. To her surprise, he actually kissed her hand as a younger man with auburn hair came down the stairs, fiddling with a hand-held electronic device.
Peter turned his best smile on Lia as Janine smiled sardonically. "Don't believe anything Janine's said about me. I am Dr. Peter Venkman, Ghostbuster, psychologist, parapsychologist, and famous guy. I don't believe I caught your name, Ms...?"
"Escobar. Lia Escobar," Lia replied, freeing her hand with difficulty, and smiling at the man standing behind Peter. Ray smiled back, holding out his hand as Janine introduced them.
"Lia, this is Ray. Ray Stantz, this is my friend Lia Escobar. You don't have to worry about Ray, Lia. He's a nice guy," said Janine, sticking out her tongue at Peter, who looked wounded.
"Hey! I'm a nice guy. Ask any of my ex-girlfriends. I'm very nice, and kind, and considerate..." Peter argued.
"...and modest, and humble, and self-effacing," Janine continued, glaring. "And generous, don't forget generous, Dr. Venkman. "
"Aw, Janine..."
Lia was laughing by now, and turned to Ray. "Are they always like this?" she asked, gesturing to the still-arguing Peter and Janine.
Ray smiled peacefully. "They enjoy it. Janine says we don't pay her enough, Peter says paying her anything is overpaying her, and they argue until they're both sick of the subject. But Janine's really the best secretary we'll ever have."
Janine overheard this, and turned to Lia. "Ha! You're my witness! They admitted it! Now they have to give me a raise!"
Peter interrupted. "Ray admitted it, not me, Janine. And I'm still financial manager."
Lia bit her lip to stifle the laugh in her throat. They were such children, like now: Peter was looking at her with pathetic basset-hound eyes, saying, "Ms. Escobar, you have to believe we really only have Janine's best interests at heart, don't we, Ray?"
Janine snorted. "Give it up, Peter. I warned her all about you. She's not gonna believe a word you say. C'mon, Lia, I'll show you the containment unit." With a toss of her head, she headed toward the basement staircase.
Lia smiled at the two scientists, nodding her head. "It was a pleasure to have met both of you."
Peter leaned back against Janine's desk as Lia walked downstairs. She could hear him saying, "She's crazy about me, you know. She just doesn't know it yet." Lia was laughing by the time she was in the basement.
Ray shook his head at Peter, fiddling with the PKE meter in his hand. "Peter, why do you always hit on Janine's friends? You know she's told them all sorts of awful things about you. I'm surprised any of them ever accept your invitations to go on dates."
Peter grinned, tipping his head back, looking like a well-fed cat. "Half of them go out with me because of what Janine's said about me, Ray. They can't believe one person can be so wonderful, so classy, so sophisticated." Ray mock-gagged. Peter sat up straight, feet dangling off Janine's desk. "What have you got there?"
"This meter has been on the fritz since we went after that Class 7 last week. I think it got an overdose of electricity when it hit that power converter, but I'm almost positive I've got it fixed. Here, stand in front of it, over there." Peter obligingly moved ten feet in front of Ray. Ray pointed the meter at him, adjusted the controls, and said, "You read as an ordinary human being."
Peter grinned. "Obviously it's still broken. Or maybe it just doesn't have a setting for extraordinary human beings." Ray groaned.
Janine re-entered from the basement, talking to Lia as they climbed the stairs. "It's only blown up twice, but believe me, twice was enough. Life around here is never dull."
Lia shook her head. "I could never stick at a job like this. I'm beginning to believe you, Janine, that this is not a hoax. I can't imagine anyone going to all the trouble of arranging something like this and have it not be genuine." Lia smiled at Ray and Peter as they approached Janine's desk, Janine gathering up her things. Ray casually pointed the PKE meter in Lia's direction, frowned, and smacked it.
Lia tensed, and smiled a little more carefully. "What is that device you're holding, Dr. Stantz?"
Ray looked up. "It's a psycho-kinetic energy meter. It detects certain types of paranormal activity and etheric presence. Right now it's broken, though. It's not detecting anything where you're standing, and it should be reading..." Ray frowned, fiddled with the knobs, and shook his head perplexedly. "Well, it's working again. Now it says there's a human being where you're standing."
Lia laughed. "I am relieved to hear that. After observing all the equipment you have downstairs to back you up, if experts such as yourselves were to tell me I didn't exist, I might begin to believe it."
Peter turned a killer smile on her. "I would never say you don't exist. You're certainly registering as present on my radar."
Janine rolled her eyes again, tugging at Lia's coat. "C'mon, Lia, let's get out of here and leave the geniuses to their work."
"Good-bye, gentlemen. " Lia nodded to Ray, then smiled at Peter, looking at him a little bit longer than absolutely necessary.
"Good-bye, Janine. Good evening, Lia," Peter singsonged, ushering them out the door, giving Lia the benefit of the Venkman charm for as long as possible. Ray waved good-bye distractedly, recalibrating the meter.
Peter grinned as the door shut behind the two women. "Crazy about me. You just wait and see, Ray. Lia Escobar and I have a future together."
Ray raised an eyebrow. "I'll believe it when I see it. Right now, I'd be willing to bet the only future you've got together is the one where she ignores you completely."
Peter waved his hand unconcernedly. "Oh ye of little faith. Just wait, Ray." He smiled to himself. "Lia... Escobar. "
Lia Raquella Sophia de Quintana y Villa, a.k.a. Lia Escobar, contemplated the city through the windows of her limousine. It was beautiful, in a unique way. She had seen cities come and go, empires rise and fall, but in the twentieth century New York City epitomized everything about America, the best and worst, and because of that it was alive in a way other cities, older cities, were not. It had a life of its own, separate from its denizens. Sometimes Lia felt that if everyone in New York City were to die, the energy loss from the area would suck in life from as far away as Pennsylvania and Montreal. It was like a black hole, drawing in energy, creativity, ambition. It had drawn in Justin and herself. It had drawn the Ghostbusters from their academic ivory towers and safe lives to a new life of danger and purpose.
"Stop here," she commanded, as Murphy brought the car close to an abandoned warehouse in Brooklyn. The vampire got out of the limo before he could open the door, pacing the sidewalk. "Yes," Lia said quietly. She looked up at the building, smiling in remembrance, then turned to Murphy.
"Wait here. I'll be back in a few minutes. If everything is as I remember it, I'll need you to contact Matthew and Robert, and some of their friends." Without explaining further, Lia entered the warehouse.
It looked like an ordinary warehouse except, perhaps, for being older and a bit more run down. Lia confidently walked into the darkness, searching the floor for what she knew was there. Far in the southern corner was a loose floorboard. Walking over to it, she chuckled to herself. Quietly, Lia tapped it three times with her foot, paused, and then whispered, "Uncle Bob sent me." She bent to the loose paneling.
Lifting the paneling exposed a stairway leading into darkness. Cautiously, Lia descended. The stairs were rickety but they held her weight. When she reached the bottom step, she looked around. Old roulette wheels, a pool table, card tables, a bar done in mahogany and leather - all old and decrepit, but still with an air of debauchery and glitter clinging to them.
The Black Diamond still shone at night. Lia laughed aloud.
In the Twenties and Thirties, during Prohibition and after, the heyday of the gangster era, Lia had 'investments' in New York City. The gentlemen she had paid to take care of those concerns had been as likely to solve problems with a gun or a jab to the jaw as they were to look at you. But they had respected her and looked after her money, and in her honor they had named the underground casino the Black Diamond. She hadn't been back here in years.
Lia walked the perimeter of the ex-gin joint, remembering the parties that had been held there, and the people. The dancing, the clothes, and the drinking. The vampire shook off the memories, and then strode to the back of the club. Pushing a picture slightly to the left, a panel opened in the wall. Lia went through.
It was all there. Her bedroom, her playroom, the underground pool... all of it. Just waiting for her to return. Lia looked at it all, considering her next course of action. Turning, she stepped back through the secret passage, through the club, back into the warehouse.
Murphy was waiting for her outside, patiently stoic. He held the limo door open for Lia, then got behind the wheel. "Do you want me to call Robert and Matthew?" he asked.
Lia settled herself into the leather. "Yes. I need them to repair a speakeasy located under that warehouse. I don't want them to know where it's located, though. Bring them and their friends here sometime tomorrow, but blindfold them or confuse them so they don't know exactly where it is."
Murphy grinned. "The Black Diamond, madam?"
Lia laughed. "Yes. It's still there." She leaned back, remembering. Abruptly, she asked, "Did your father tell you how it got the name?"
"No, madam, he did not. Although it's not hard to guess, now that I know, well, now that I know other things, so to speak," Murphy replied, driving back toward Manhattan. "It's a lovely name, like the lady it honors. "
"Thank you, Murphy." She remembered the night it opened in 1921, her standing at the top of the staircase as Murphy's father toasted the opening of the club with "Our lovely benefactress, who is responsible for our being here tonight. Liana Marquez, a diamond of the night!"
So many memories. It would be the perfect place to deal with whomever killed Justin. After all, there were so many other ghosts there. Rudy Callahan had died of a gunshot wound, bleeding his life out over the bar in 1926. Gwenneth Pike had sipped one cocktail too many and broke her neck on the stairs. Of course, there were the three traitorous businessmen she'd had to kill in the pool. After biting them, naturally.
Justin's killer would be very comfortable, very safe, and very, very hard to find in an abandoned speakeasy in Brooklyn.
Egon Spengler was leaving the basement after dumping some ghosts in the containment unit, extremely tired and worn out after a long day of busting, when he heard Peter sing out, "Hellooooo, Lia! I'm so glad you could grace us with your presence tonight."
The mating call of the Venkman, Egon thought. He'd heard all about Janine's new friend from Peter, and knew his friend was infatuated again. Janine had been irritated earlier that day when Peter had tried to pump her for information about her friend. "Peter, I like her, but I hardly know her. I just met her a month ago. Will you quit acting like a teenager and leave her alone?"
"Janine, she's gorgeous. She knows she's gorgeous. And a gorgeous woman like her deserves-"
"To be left alone, if she wants to be, Venkman," Janine had scowled.
"If she wants to be, Melnitz. All I'm asking is what kind of music does she like, does she like sports, is she married, how does she feel about being the mother of my children, stuff like that. I don't see what your problem is," Peter had protested.
Janine had thrown up her hands in disgust. "I give up." Then she grinned. "Besides, I think I'll let Lia deal with you. She thought you were amusing" Peter preened. "but childish." Peter then glared at Janine, who smiled sweetly, kindly back at him. "You're out of your league, Venkman."
"Never! I'm in a class by myself, how could I possibly be out of my league?" Peter had looked smugly satisfied, very confident, and completely sure of himself.
Egon reached the top of the stairs and turned to see Peter's new dream girl, then stopped. She really was spectacularly pretty. She also seemed completely unimpressed by the Venkman charm. Score one for Janine, thought Egon. Lia was looking over Ray's shoulder at one of the traps, listening to Ray explain how it worked with one ear and Peter trying to flirt with her with the other. She appeared to be handling the situation with ease.
"So, would you like to go to the Dire Straits concert Saturday night?" Peter was wrapping up his pitch. "Or maybe you want to go directly to Reno, I can get us reservations, just say the word."
Lia smiled at Peter, raising an eyebrow at Egon as she noticed him for the first time. "I'm not very fond of rock music, Peter. My tastes are more classical." She tilted her head, brushing hair out of her face, and looked rueful. "And I hate Reno."
Peter was looking a little desperate - not very, just nervous. Janine made a face behind Lia's back, obviously not about to let Peter forget what he'd said before, and clearly finding the situation very funny. Lia turned to Ray. "Thank you for explaining the trap mechanism to me, Ray. I'm not sure I understood the physics of it, but I think I can comprehend why ghosts don't escape every day, now."
Ray blushed. "No problem, Lia. Hey, if you want a better explanation of the physics, ask Egon here. He designed them and he's giving a lecture on how they work next week." Lia turned an inquiring face to Egon.
"Egon, this is Lia Escobar. Lia, this is Egon Spengler, I think he's the only one you haven't met yet, right?" Janine frowned, trying to remember.
"Yes, you introduced me to Winston the day before yesterday. It's a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Spengler, Janine and Ray have told me so much about you." Egon shook her hand, seeing why Peter was currently obsessed with this woman. Of course, next week it would be someone else, but Lia was extremely lovely, very charming, and she didn't seem to be falling for Peter as easily as some women did. All of which would make Peter try that much harder.
"Peter didn't mention me?" he asked, getting a dig in at his colleague's expense.
Lia grinned suddenly, looking mischievous. "Peter has mentioned so many things, how can I keep track of one physicist in the middle of all of his information?"
"Hey," Peter protested, "I don't think you're taking my offers of love and companionship as seriously as you could be, Lia."
"I am taking them as seriously as they deserve to be taken, Peter," Lia responded. "Honestly, I don't enjoy rock music. I wouldn't have a good time at any of the concerts you've suggested. I'm much more partial to opera, or to Baroque music."
"You like opera?" Egon asked interestedly.
"I adore it. Unfortunately, I haven't attended any concerts this season. I haven't been able to get tickets yet, I've been so busy."
"What's your favorite opera?" Egon asked. He had tickets to the Met for next Tuesday night, and if she answered the next question correctly he might not have to go by himself.
"TOSCA. It's ridiculously romantic, of course. But I love the music and the passion. I cry at the end every time." Lia looked wistful. "I haven't seen it for a very long time. It's playing at the Met next week. With any luck, I might be able to get tickets before they're sold out."
"I've got tickets." Lia looked surprised as Egon went on, "I was planning on taking a friend, but she had to cancel. I hate going by myself, you're welcome to join me..."
"I'd love to!" Lia laughed. Peter looked pained. "What day?"
"Tuesday. I could pick you up at your apartment, if you like," Egon said.
"No, that's all right, I'll meet you there. Really, this is very generous of you, Dr. Spengler."
"Egon."
Lia blushed and glanced up at Egon. "Egon. Thank you very much." She took a look at her watch. "Janine, we should probably leave now, the others won't wait for us long and if the traffic's bad we'll miss the first act."
Lia and Janine hurried out of the firehouse, Janine calling, "Bye, guys. Bye, Peter. See you tomorrow," over her shoulder. Peter waited until they were gone, then turned to Egon in annoyance.
"Egon, why did you do that? You know I've been trying to get her to go out with me. Why'd you step in like that?"
"Trying is for wimps, Peter." Egon evaded the paper ball Peter quickly crumpled from Janine's notepad and threw at him, and said, "I just had the extra ticket, and it seemed like a shame to waste it. Besides, I don't think she's your type."
"Oh, yeah?" Peter was looking for a snappy comeback, and couldn't think of one. "Let me tell you something, big guy. All women are my type, including Lia. She's crazy about me, really."
Ray laughed. "How long do you think it will be before she wakes up to it?" Ray ducked the wad of paper Peter threw at him and ran laughing upstairs.
Lia listened to Winston talking about the Ghostbusters' work as Ray
twiddled with something under Ecto's hood. "If I'd known half of what
we'd get into in this job, I never would have taken it. I got hired
by Ray after two minutes of interviewing, the next day Egon explains
the Twinkie theory of psychokinetic energy, and the EPA was
investigating us at the same time. I should have quit right then."
"Why didn't you?" Lia asked. She was a dinner guest that night, Janine and she had had spaghetti and smalresh at Egon's invitation. TOSCA had been enjoyable, she and Egon had gone out twice since that first date. At first she had seemed hesitant to go out with him again, but she and Egon seemed to enjoy each other's company and things were progressing. Winston was pleased. Egon needs to get out more, he thought. And it's not as if Peter doesn't have enough to keep him occupied, I think he's going out with a female mud wrestling team tonight. Lia and Egon have more in common, anyway.
"I don't know, maybe I just couldn't believe it was real so I wasn't as scared as I should have been. And after a couple of days it seemed important, like we were really accomplishing something. I used to be in the construction business and maybe watching buildings go up is someone else's idea of making something, leaving your mark, but it didn't do much for me." Winston grinned, studying Lia. "Maybe I just like to be a hero, you know? Defending the innocent, making the world a safe place?"
Lia laughed. "The Four Musketeers, defending the realm."
"Something like that. " Winston stretched, and got up from Janine's chair. "I'm gonna go watch Peter do the dishes. I think this is the first time this week he hasn't been able to get out of them. "
Lia watched him walk upstairs, started to return to Ray, and then stopped for a moment when Slimer strayed into the room. Deliberately, carefully, she reached out with her mind. "Hi, Slimer," she said softly.
Slimer stopped, and looked at her. She hadn't been sure of how to deal with him when Janine had first mentioned him, but she had stumbled onto a nearly foolproof method of getting him out of the way. His stomach.
"Hi, Lia. Gotta go. Hungry. See you!" Slimer called, following Winston upstairs. Lia smiled to herself. Nether entities were so suggestible. You just had to find the right trigger. She had considered having him fixate on Peter but had decided that would be noticed, even though Slimer did usually pester him according to Janine's tales. The first time they had been introduced Slimer hadn't paid much attention to her, more concerned with his next meal than with a new person. Her psychic shields were good enough to fool the Ghostbusters' instrumentation, but extended examination by a psychokinetic creature might have put them under undue stress. So, Slimer was never allowed to stick around long enough to become suspicious. Simple.
Lia strolled over to Ecto and leaned against the car, watching Ray fix a broken wire. The youngest Ghostbuster was so earnest, so sweet. So trusting. Which made what she was about to do feel rather contemptible. But it is necessary, she thought. I have to know. I have to be sure. I can't let Justin's murderers go unpunished.
"Ray?" she asked, putting her hand over one of his. Ray looked up, surprised. Lia knew he had a little bit of a crush on her, it would make what she was going to do easier.
"What?" he asked, wiping his hands on a rag.
"I need to ask you something. Something personal, about Janine."
Ray looked wary. "Lia, I don't know. I mean, if you want to know something why don't you ask her about it?"
Lia sighed, and looked directly into his face. "Because I don't want to hurt her, Ray. And I need to ask about something so I won't hurt her unintentionally."
Ray went back to messing with the wiring in the car. "I can't promise I'll tell you anything, Lia. But if you're trying to help Janine, I'll probably tell you. "
"What happened to Janine on Valentine's Day?"
Ray dropped a wrench. "What?" he asked, to give himself time. He liked Lia, he really did, but telling her about the events surrounding Janine's attack was too much.
"I already know some of it. I know she trusted a man named Justin Tremaine, and that he hurt her. I know she ended up in the hospital because of him. I know it happened on Valentine's Day, that you guys saved her life, and that she was in love with Justin. Ray, I need to know exactly what happened. I mention things, and I watch Janine's face close up because I've said something that hurts her. There was something... odd about the attack, wasn't there?" Lia was watching Ray's face intently. Now or never, she thought.
Ray looked down at his hands, then back at Lia. She seemed really concerned, and he knew she and Janine had become good friends. She needed to know so she could help Janine. He knew Janine still thought about Justin sometimes. It hadn't really been that long since it happened. Maybe, if Lia knew, she could help Janine get completely over it, woman-to-woman.
"Okay," he said suddenly. "But this is in confidence, understand?"
"Of course."
"Justin Tremaine," Ray took a breath, "was a vampire."
Lia stared at him, a disappointed look on her face. "Ray, if you're not going to tell me, just say so. "
"I'm serious, Lia," Ray said, grabbing her arm when it looked like she was going to walk away. "Justin Tremaine was a vampire. He was in love with Janine, not the other way around. He tried her to make her into one."
Lia stood stock-still, forgetting to breathe. Oh, Justin, what did you do? She kept her thoughts off her face. "A vampire," she said in an even voice. "A vampire attacked Janine?"
"Yeah. He was obsessed with her. When she changed her mind and decided not to become a vampire, he tried to kill her. He dumped her in Central Park, left her to bleed to death." Ray got upset remembering it, remembering how close Janine had come to dying that night.
"I see." Lia paused, considering. "I believe you, Ray. I don't know why, but I do. Tell me, what became of the vampire?"
Ray looked away. "We had to kill him."
Lia's world stopped. She had known it, had suspected the Ghostbusters were the ones who killed him, had even prepared herself for the knowledge, but it still hit her with the force of a blow. Justin, querido, cara mia, she moaned in her heart. Why?
"How?" she whispered, looking at Ray.
"Egon and I rigged up these ultra-violet lamps. Vampires are vulnerable to sunlight because of the UV rays. We followed Justin and Janine to Tremaine's apartment, but when we got there he'd already hurt Janine and left her for dead. We were trying to get him to tell us what he'd done with her when he tried to get away, saying that he'd come back for us all. I fired the lamp..." Ray looked at her, a bleak expression on his face. "He died instantly."
"Ray, I'm so sorry," said Lia quietly. "Having to kill someone - it must be very difficult." I am sorry it was you. I was beginning to like you, Ray.
"Thanks," Ray responded. "Just try to help Janine, all right? We've tried to help her but I know it sometimes still bothers her a lot. But if you can help her come to terms with it, it'd be enormously appreciated. We care about Janine a lot."
"I am going to give Janine all the help she deserves," said Lia aloud, and thought to herself, which is precisely nothing. Justin, Justin, why couldn't you have listened to me?
Lia stood at the window of Justin's apartment, looking at the two
statues. She had walked there from Central, needing the time to think
after she had called Murphy and told him to pick her up a half-hour
before sunrise. He had sounded concerned about her, worried,
wondering if she was well. Usually his care would have made her
happy, but now she felt so removed from normal emotions, so
completely distant, that she felt nothing about his concerns.
She felt rage.
There was no way to deny it anymore. She had felt it from the moment she had first entered Justin's apartment and realized he was dead. Part of the mourning process, a part of her mind stated. After loss, denial of loss. After denial, anger. After anger, bargaining. Peter Venkman no doubt could give an extended analysis of her probable emotional state, citing chapter and verse on its causes and inevitable outcomes. For mortals, at any rate. But I am not mortal, and neither was Justin. He need never have died.
The vampire paced around the apartment, feeling the place in her mind where Justin had been and was no more. Gone. Forever. To sleep the true death. Lia had never reconciled herself to death, she had beaten it. Dragged kicking and screaming into the world of the undead, she had adjusted and made her peace with it. Had been compensated, by never having to die. She had children, children of her soul.
Whenever one died, Lia hurt. Mostly they died by accident, staying out 'til the sunrise, going too long without feeding and then being unable to find sustenance, being careless. Some had died at the hands of lynch mobs in the Middle Ages. None had died in the last century.
Justin. I will miss you so much. Lia remembered his beauty, his strength, his talent. She thought of his joy in vampirism. He had loved the power of it, and the freedom; the responsibilities were never something he accepted, but he might have, he might have, if he had been allowed to live. He would have outgrown his arrogance. He would have learned control, he would have been one of the great ones. But they KILLED HIM!
Lia dropped to her knees by the couch, sobbing, her grief almost as great as her anger. He was too young to die! It's not fair! I cherished him, I taught him, I loved him. He shouldn't have died before me. I was going to show him so much, and now, now I'll never get to. Why? WHY?
She caught her breath, choked, and stood up in one moment, then walked over to her statue. Janine's was next to it. Lia felt an overpowering urge it smash it, break it, grind it to powder. To kill Janine.
Her fault. Janine's fault. He loved her, and she rejected him, my darling, my love. How dare she?
Her hand closed on the statue, stopped. The vampire contemplated the fragile figurine---it was too beautiful to break, and it was Justin's last work. Lia couldn't destroy it. But she could destroy Janine. Not by breaking her neck, that would be too easy. She wanted to see Janine crawl. To see her in torment. How could she hurt Janine the way she had been hurt? How could she avenge Justin?
The idea came slowly, creeping into her mind. Lia looked at the statue in amazement. It was simple, but it was perfect. Janine would break because of the pain caused to her friends, the friends who had killed Justin. Murderers. They had no right.
Something irrevocable must be done. Something irreversible. Justin's death was irreversible. Nothing could bring him back, no power on Earth. Maybe in Hell, but nowhere else. She would take something from those murderers, those killers, those liars, the way they had stolen Justin from her.
Lia let go of the statue, wiped the tears off her face, and walked back to the door. Murphy would be waiting. All she felt now was very, very tired. There would be no action taken now. After all, she had all the time in the world to figure out exactly how to break them. Subtly, irrevocably, finally and completely. Liana knew how to avenge her honor - with care and cunning.
Peter was adjusting his tie in the mirror, humming "Jump" and trying
to decide if he wanted to put on a different suit. Naah. Kate was
crazy about red; the tie was just the right touch to the Versace.
Plus she loved silk. She'd said something on their last date about
loving to wear men's silk shirts - maybe she'd get a chance to.
Tomorrow morning.
"Peter, will you hurry up?" Egon asked from outside the bathroom. "Some of us also have dates, you know. "
Peter opened the door to the exasperated physicist, who immediately started looking for his shaving kit. "Where are you going this time, Spengs? I don't have to ask with who. Lia and you are getting cozier and cozier. "
Egon looked up, distracted. "Have you been using my aftershave? I can't find it."
"I wouldn't use it if you paid me. It smells like one of your experiments."
Egon found the bottle in the medicine cabinet and sniffed it cautiously, sending Peter a dirty look when he caught his colleague's amused grin. "Peter..."
"Just yanking your chain, Egon. Seriously, what did you have planned for tonight? Candlelight? Dancing? A little bit of recreational research into the body and soul of Miss Lia Escobar?"
"Not that it's any of your business, but we're going to the planetarium. They've got a laser show set to Bach that Lia said she wanted to catch." Egon rubbed on some shaving cream, and glanced over at his colleague leaning in the doorway, looking impeccable. As usual, when Peter prepared for a date he went loaded for bear. "You look like you've got big plans."
"Kate. A show at the Palladium, dinner at Sardi's, dancing at the Paradise, and then maybe a trip to the real thing in person, who knows?" Peter grinned. "Bach, huh? You know, Egon, there are times I am seriously relieved you're dating her and I'm not. Gorgeous as she is, we wouldn't have anything to say to one another during a date. Except maybe 'your place or mine?'" Peter dodged the washcloth Egon threw at him. "You really like her, don't you?"
Egon took out his razor. "I like her. She's intelligent and interesting. Why shouldn't I?"
Peter held up his hands defensively. "Hey, I'm not saying you shouldn't. I just like to get things straight." Peter backed out the door. "Give the lady my regards."
Egon contemplated his reflection in the mirror, thinking. He did like Lia, but that was all. They had a lot in common and he enjoyed her company. Peter's comment got him thinking about how much time he had been spending with her lately. Not that he'd done anything to give her the impression he was interested in more than friendship, but maybe it would be a good idea to get that out in the open. If Peter was starting to think he might be getting involved with Lia (for lack of a better phrase, Egon thought with irritation) then maybe she thought so, too. Peter was usually a pretty good barometer of other people's reactions. Being a good psychologist was only part of it; Egon knew Peter's ability to see all the angles was a skill you had to be born with, but also that Peter had refined the gift into an art with time and practice.
I probably should talk to Lia, Egon decided reluctantly. After all, it wouldn't be fair to Lia if she was expecting more than friendship. After dealing with Janine's semi-infatuation for so long the last thing he wanted was to have to deal with another woman whose feelings he didn't return. He wouldn't enjoy it but it was something he ought to bring up. Lia probably wasn't thinking they were anything more than friends but he'd feel better after he'd talked to her about it.
Egon took a cab to Lia's office, a huge, semi-gothic edifice that looked like Escher and Frank Lloyd Wright had gotten drunk together and decided they wanted to play a joke on the architectural world. Egon knew from experience that the inside was a labyrinth of fluorescent-lighted corridors and dark alcoves, occasionally leading to dead-ends with doors that led into painted-over walls. Lia had joked that it was like working in a dungeon, or a bad fairy tale, "where all the peasants labor in the bowels of the castle." It was a good thing he was meeting her in the lobby, if he had to find her office again in that maze he'd be there all night.
Lia came out of the elevator looking fresh and energetic. "Hello, have you been waiting long?" she asked, giving him a kiss on the cheek.
Egon was a little surprised at the kiss. Usually she wasn't so demonstrative. Maybe it was a good thing he'd decided to talk to her tonight. "No, I just got here. I was admiring the architecture. This building is fascinating."
"You're the only one who thinks so. Personally, it gives me nightmares," Lia said as they got into a cab. "Honestly, Egon, you find the oddest things interesting. I really admire that about you."
"Thanks," Egon said, feeling uncomfortable, studying her. His feeling of discomfort dissipated as he looked into her eyes, which were wide and frankly appreciative. Strangely, he enjoyed having her look at him like that.
Throughout the light show Egon felt uneasy, but couldn't say why. It had something to do with Lia, about how he felt about her. He was relieved when the show ended and they left the planetarium for a late dinner. Lia only drank some coffee while Egon ate, and throughout dinner he tried to think of how to say what he needed to.
Over dessert, Egon decided to get it over with. Putting it off wouldn't make it any easier. "Lia, we have to talk," he said, toying with his rhubarb pie.
"So serious." Lia raised an eyebrow at him, looking lovely in the candlelight. "You look as if you swallowed something bitter. Spit it out."
"It's about... us," Egon said, forcing the words out, feeling incredibly awkward. He stared her in the face, determined to be straightforward. Suddenly, he felt a little dizzy.
"Egon, are you all right?" Lia asked in concern, touching his hand. "You don't look well. Here, drink some water."
"No, I'm okay," Egon said, sounding surprised. He took a sip of the water, noticing the warmth of the restaurant for the first time. "Odd. For a moment there I thought I was going to pass out."
"Well, if this is what talking about 'us' does to you, maybe we shouldn't," Lia said, still studying him carefully. "If it upsets you we can always talk about whatever it is later."
"No, I'm okay, I just wanted to say..." Egon faced her again, stared deep into her eyes, and heard the words come out of his mouth seemingly without his control. "How much I like you. And how close I feel to you."
"Egon, that's so sweet," Lia smiled warmly, leaning across the table toward him. "I really, really like you, too. "
Egon leaned closer to her, not actually conscious of what he was doing until they were kissing. Not that it was unpleasant, just unexpected. As was the way he was currently feeling. He'd thought he was going to say something about not getting too close or how he valued her as a friend, but now he didn't feel that way. He didn't want to give her the impression he wasn't interested in her, or that he only liked her. Everything he'd planned to say earlier that evening flew out the window with their first kiss.
Lia pulled back, looking flustered. "Well," she said, obviously breathing a little heavier. "Well. This is sort of surprising. I mean-"
"I know what you mean," Egon interrupted, taking a breath himself. "I didn't see this coming. At all. So," he said, trying to think of something to say, "You really like me?"
"Egon," Lia laughed, shaking her head, her eyes shining. He felt ridiculously happy.
Lia wasn't feeling bad either, watching the now-infatuated scientist. One down, four to go, she thought. It was almost too easy. The power to cloud men's minds, she said to herself in dark amusement. When you knew what you were doing, mortals could be made to believe anything was real, even to mistake illusory emotions for the genuine article.
It was around 4 AM and everyone in Ghostbuster Central was fast
asleep. Slimer drifted above Ray's head, each of them clutching their
favorite stuffed dolls closely as they slept. Egon was sacked out on
his bed, a strange smile playing about his face. Winston was
completely out for the night, exhausted by the busy day. Peter was
gone - Kate had really liked his shirt and hadn't been able to turn
down an offer to wear it the next morning.
Lia quietly materialized in the middle of the room, her body slowly forming itself out of mist. An easy trick, one of the first she'd learned. She'd had to, to get out of that damned crypt. Unlike what she was about to do tonight it didn't require a whole lot of effort.
She scanned the room, slightly disappointed Peter wasn't there. Oh, well. She'd get him tomorrow night. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing - she was particularly looking forward to what she had planned for him and if she took a whole night to accomplish it instead of just part of one, it would go that much easier. Lia smiled to herself. Peter and Janine had a lot in common, though they'd both probably rather die than admit it. Both were smart, mouthy, attractive, confident people who had a great deal of, well, passion was the best word that came to mind. Liveliness, vitality, life, whatever you called it, it was the quality that made both of them stand out in a room full of people. Especially if you were a vampire.
Lia moved over to Winston's bedside and stood staring down at him a moment. He was a stable, calm personality. To completely break down his psyche would take a great deal of work; tonight she was just going to lay the foundations, get a toehold, so to speak, in his mind. She glanced over at Ray. What she had planned for Ray would accomplish the rest. Lia had something very special in mind for Ray, something that would only take place after the rest of the Ghostbusters were sufficiently prepared for it.
She knelt next to Winston, lightly placing her fingers on his neck, getting a feel for the rhythm of his breathing and the flow of his blood. No drinking tonight, what she was doing was much more sophisticated. Young, immature vampires such as Justin needed to bite their victims to be able to influence their thoughts and dreams. Lia just needed to touch them or engage their gaze, and then she would be able to influence their conscious thoughts and actions through subconscious directions. They would still know something was wrong, the human mind was a convoluted place and humans never truly forgot anything. But they would have less control over what they thought once she had established a link.
Lia closed her eyes, and entered Winston's dream.
Winston was walking down a deserted back street, a neon sign flashing on and off somewhere above him. His footsteps echoed in the darkness, and somehow he knew that although he couldn't see them, other eyes were watching him. He reached inside his trench coat for his gun.
A doorway opened up ahead along the alley, a flash of light and music momentarily slicing through the darkness. "And stay out, you silly bitch! When Tony Malone is finished with someone, he's finished, got that?" A woman's form was pushed out the door into the alley, stumbling on high heels and falling into one of the puddles of rain. Winston hurried forward to help her as the door slammed shut again. She lifted her head, black hair falling across her back, tears streaking her makeup. It was Lia.
"Lia! What are you doing here?" he asked, supporting her as she hobbled to her feet, her progress impeded by her very short skirt. There was a bruise mark beginning to show on her cheek.
She looked at him without recognition. "Do I know you?" she asked, her voice thick with tears. Reaching down for her purse, she gave Winston a good look at very long legs. Winston realized she wasn't Lia, she was part of the dream. The woman looked like Lia, but hey, why not, Egon's girlfriend was a knockout.
"Guess not. My name's Jonson, Will Jonson. I'm a private eye. Anything I can do to help?" he asked.
Lia stumbled into his arms, leaning against him, the tears starting again. "You can help me kill Tony Malone. That rat. Dumps me for some blond chorus girl. Tell me, what's she got that I ain't got?"
"Nothing I can see, lady," Winston responded. A damsel in distress. A beautiful damsel in distress, just like in the Bogart movies. Lia didn't make a bad Lauren Bacall. She stared into his eyes, suddenly spellbound.
Winston thought about it for approximately one-tenth of a second. Why not, it's only a dream, he concluded. He lowered his lips to hers. The kiss went on for some time, and it inevitably led to other things...
Lia took her hand away from Winston's neck, opening her eyes. Really, what an imagination. And it was perfectly set up for her to enter his dreams again and again, with the scenario he had running right now. After tonight she wouldn't have to be physically near him to participate, of course. Tomorrow he would remember the dream, and he would feel a little tired because of the energy she'd drained, but nothing noticeable. When he and Peter had both been drained of enough energy, and Egon was distracted enough, then she would make her move on Ray. Of course, biting them would be more fool-proof but if I did that, one of them would be bound to catch on too fast. This will do.
But before she dealt with Ray she had a great many other things to do. She had to start getting things ready to send to Janine, she had to make sure the Black Diamond would be ready... so many details. Go slow, she reminded herself. You've got lots of time. Nothing was ever lost by being cautious.
She looked back at Winston, smiled, and dissolved into mist.
"Duck!!" Ray shouted to Peter, giving him an enthusiastic push away from the red ghost dive-bombing them.
"Aaaaighh!!" Peter responded, sliding into the lily-pond. Luckily it was a shallow pool, only two feet deep. The spook they were after had been terrorizing Central Park residents around sundown for the past two days, stealing purses and hanging them from trees, chasing joggers across the park, and generally being a royal pain. The Ghostbusters had put themselves on-call today in hopes the red menace would strike again. It had.
"Ray, will you watch it, I nearly ended up swimming in that muck!" Peter yelled over Egon and Winston's shouts. Peter's legs were covered in slimy gray-green mud up to his knees.
"Sorry, Peter, I didn't realize it was so slippery here. Get over by that park bench, he's making another pass this way!!" Ray called as he ran toward the zooming bullet-shaped ghost, throwing out a trap.
Peter sloshed his way out of the lily pond as Winston shot a containment stream from behind a stand of trees toward the fleeing specter. He opened fire, joining his beam to Winston's, yelling, "Now, Ray! Hit it!"
The trap opened, sending fiery energy around the purse-snatching ghost, who screamed, made rude faces, and was finally sucked into the trap. The light on the little box blinked happily at Peter. "Gotcha, ya little slimeball," he muttered. The ghost deserved to be trapped just for the slip in the pool he'd taken. Egon joined them, collapsing on the park bench.
"Was it me, or did that seem harder than usual?" Winston asked him, leaning against the back of the bench to catch his breath. He'd been feeling sluggish all day, and the unusually hot July evening hadn't helped matters.
Egon closed his eyes. "The ghost was faster than most specters, Winston. I'd say he was feeding off emotional vibrations such as excitement, and our chasing him only made him faster." He opened his eyes, seeing the mess Peter had gotten himself into, and grinned. "Ray, did you push Peter in the pond? That wasn't very nice. "
Ray looked distressed. "I didn't have to, really, he fell in all by himself." He picked up the trap, and started heading for the car.
Peter shot him a dirty look, regarding his soaked and smelly jumpsuit with disgust. "Thanks a lot, Ray. I didn't exactly see you helping me there." He sighed heavily, wiping the sweat from his forehead. A two-hour workout chasing an energetic phantom across Central Park was not his idea of how to spend a hot evening in New York. "Can we go home now? Please? Pretty please? With chocolate whipped cream on top?"
"Yes, Peter, we can go home now," Egon said in a long-suffering voice.
As the exhausted Ghostbusters drove into the firehouse, Winston announced "Man, I am beat. I'm going straight to bed, I don't care how early it is."
"I second that emotion," Peter groaned. "Right after I take a shower."
Egon opened the car door, and gave a guilty start. Lia was standing in front of Janine's desk looking at him expectantly. "Lia," he said. "I'm sorry, I forgot we were going to go out tonight. Would you mind taking a rain check? We just came off a really tough job."
Lia surveyed the sweat-soaked and weary Ghostbusters sympathetically. "Of course. Janine said it was a routine bust so I thought you'd be back soon, and then we started talking and I didn't notice the time. I don't expect you to take me out after a long job like that, Egon." She got her first look at Peter, and laughed.
Peter grinned, stowing his proton pack, and peeled out of the jumpsuit to reveal a sweaty undershirt and underwear with little pink hearts on it. "Now you know the truth, Lia. Sometimes busting ghosts is a dirty job. It's sweaty, grinding, demanding work. But we do it because we care." Lia dissolved into laughter as Peter added, "Of course, the outrageous fees we charge are an added inspiration. Speaking of inspiration, wanta help me clean up?"
Egon was shooting jealous looks at Peter, plainly annoyed that he'd stripped to his underwear, while Venkman was smiling guilelessly back. Lia got control of herself, feeling triumphant at the way Egon was responding to her suggestions. "No, thank you, Peter. While I'm sure someone as heroic as you deserves a reward, it isn't something I feel worthy of bestowing on you. I'll see you all later," she said, swinging her purse over her shoulder and kissing Egon on the mouth. "Bye. "
"Bye, Lia," Egon said. When she was out of sight, he swung around to Peter. "Do you have to hit on her every time she walks in?"
Janine had been listening to Ray and Winston explain how Peter had gotten so messy, and gathering up her stuff, but she, Ray and Winston now turned their attention to the other two Ghostbusters. Peter was halfway up the stairs. He stopped and grinned down at the irritated physicist, who was running a hand through his hair and shooting Peter an angry look. "Lighten up, Spengs. Neither one of us takes it seriously. You know, you are getting really possessive in your old age." Egon was fuming as Peter sauntered out of earshot. Venkman shook his head, amused. Who'd'a thought detached Egon could get so hyper about a little flirtation? Maybe it really was love.
Egon growled, and stomped over to the storage cabinet. He hated feeling jealous, but lately he didn't seem to be able to stop himself. Janine watched him thoughtfully. "Lia likes you a lot, Egon," she said, shutting down her computer. The physicist turned to her, surprised.
Janine was watching him with clear, quiet eyes. "She's a good friend, she talks to me."
Spengler shut the cabinet and leaned against it. "This is new for me, Janine. I'm not... used to this."
Janine smiled, a little sadly. "I know."
Egon immediately felt like a jerk. "I'm sorry, forget I said anything."
"No, it's okay," Janine said. Egon looked at her closely. She was fine, she didn't look upset. Janine went on, "It's a little awkward, but I'll get over that. And if I can handle it, you can handle Peter's flirting. You know half the reason he does it is to get to you. He likes her but he's not really interested, and she's certainly not. Stay cool, Egon."
Grimacing, he shook his head. "Act like a grown-up, you mean?"
Janine laughed, halfway out the door. "Exactly, Dr. Spengler. G'night." Very good, Janine, she congratulated herself ironically, walking to the subway. No one will ever guess that cost you something big in the self-control and self-sacrifice department. You martyr. Not that she was still in love with Egon. No, she wasn't. It was just... difficult. Watching Egon fall for another woman so easily when he'd resisted her overtures on such a long-term basis was not good for her ego. Oh well, it could be worse, she comforted herself. You could hate Lia's guts, and that would only make you look like a jealous twerp. Which you're not. But if he'd ever fallen for me half as easily as he did for Lia... things would be real different.
Back at the firehouse, Egon was considering Janine's words. But I don't feel like a grown-up, he thought. He sighed mentally. Being around Peter and Ray so much was evidently rubbing off. He'd just have to get used to his feelings for Lia, like an adult, and learn to handle them like an adult, or Peter was going to keep on having fun at his expense. He headed for the kitchen for a snack, feeling tired.
The shower felt terrific. Peter wished he could fall asleep on his feet, just staying in there, but he finally turned the water off and got out. Wrapping himself in a towel, he staggered into the bedroom, too tired to put on his pajamas. Winston was already in bed, almost asleep. Peter put some underwear on - hey, Janine might try to get cute and wake them up for an early call - and collapsed on his bed with an "oomph." About ten seconds later he was asleep.
Egon entered the bedroom intending to apologize to Peter, but found he was too late. He shook his head ruefully. Winston and Peter were out like lights, totally drained. He'd have to apologize tomorrow. Really, he didn't know what had gotten into him.
It was midnight when Lia re-entered the firehouse, checking around before softly moving into the bedroom. All four Ghostbusters were there this time, worn out from their recent job. Lia knelt by Peter's bed, brushing the hair out of his face. He looked so vulnerable, so sweet. Remember why you're doing this, she said to herself sternly. This man and his friends killed Justin. Remember that.
She cupped Peter's cheek, closed her eyes, and slid into his dream.
"Fire forward phasers, Mr. Sulu!"
Pow! Pow! Pow! "Direct hit, Keptin!" crowed Mr. Chekov.
Captain "Venkman" Kirk narrowed his eyes, swiveling around in his chair, surveying his bridge. It's good to be Captain, he thought, then said, "Open hailing frequencies, Lieutenant Uhura."
"Aye, Captain," said the communications officer. "Communication on-screen."
The screen filled up with the image of a beautiful familiar-but-alien face. Lia was wearing a low-cut, form-fitting, red catsuit, antennae rising from her head, a strange tattoo on her chest. Peter did a double-take. "Haven't we met somewhere before?" he said.
McCoy looked over at Spock, grinning. "Pay up," he whispered. "I told you we'd meet another old flame this week."
"Later," Spock hissed back.
Peter cleared his throat significantly. "Alien vessel, you have fired on a Federation starship. Give up or we'll blast you to protons. Got it?" he asked.
The alien-commander-who-was-a-double-of-Lia looked haggard. "Federation, we are in horrible trouble. We desperately need supplies for our dying planet. I apologize for firing on you, but we are in dire straits. We need all the help we can beg, borrow or steal. If we could meet in person, perhaps I could make amends somehow..." she pleaded, her eyes wide and hopeless.
Peter tried to look thoughtful. After all, he had appearances to keep up. He was the captain of a starship. You couldn't just let things like this slip by.
"Please," Lia said, leaning forward on the screen, pulling her uniform even tighter across her body.
Peter gulped. "Oh, hey, forgive and forget. No problem. Tell you what, why don't you meet me on that little space station right there, we'll talk about what we can do for your people, how we can help them. By the way, who'd you say you were?"
"Does it matter?" Lia breathed.
"Not really. See you soon," Peter said, heading for the turbolift.
Spock stopped him before he got on it. "Sir, it may be a trap. This could be a ruse, designed to kidnap you and breach the Enterprise's defenses," he said pedantically.
Peter became solemn, considering. "You may be right. That's why if I'm not back in three hours, I don't want you to do anything. If I'm lost, I'm lost. No rescue attempts, no search parties, okay?" The turbolift doors closed in Spock's face.
The transporter beam shimmer stopped. Peter looked around him at the space station he'd never considered until this moment. Lucite and neon gleamed around him as a soft piano played in the background. Evidently, he'd ended up in the bar.
Standing by the baby grand was the alien commander. Funny, how she looked like Lia. Hey, go with it, Peter thought. You're never going to get this close to her in real life. She looked up, her face full of sadness as he walked over to her. "Of all the gin joints..." he muttered to himself.
"Captain, my apologies for attacking your ship. My people have been forced to turn to piracy because of the famine on our planet." Lia gazed at him soulfully, obviously really heartbroken about the situation.
Poor kid, Peter thought. "Hey, it's all right, I understand. Why don't we work out some sort of treaty here, where the Federation helps your people out and we all live happily ever after?"
"That sounds wonderful. But I don't believe you." Lia whipped out a phaser, shot the piano player, and then turned the weapon on Peter. Before he slid into unconsciousness, he thought, Spock was right again, dammit. I hate it when Spock's right!
Peter woke up to find himself in a lushly appointed bedroom, tied to the bed. Naked. Lia hovered over him with concern. "Are you okay?" she asked.
"Fine. Why did you shoot me?" he snarled, trying to get his arms free. He didn't care how cute she was, nobody shoots Captain Kirk!
"I have to know if you can be trusted," she said, sitting on the bed next to him. She'd changed into an electric-green satin nightgown that clung as tightly as the catsuit had. "I'm going to have to torture you. "
Peter ogled. "What?" he squeaked. This was not fun.
"I'm going to have to kiss you until you tell me the troop strength of your Federation," Lia said earnestly.
Peter choked, then got a hold of himself. He sneered his defiance. "Starship Captains are made of stern stuff. We don't break after a few kisses. You'll find that out," he said as Lia bent over him, her hair brushing his bare chest.
The kiss was intense, and long, and hard. For a dream, this is pretty real, Peter thought. Lia finally let him up for air. "That your best shot?" he croaked.
She sighed, shaking her head. "Give up now, while you still can," she pleaded with him. "I have to do this. I know you don't enjoy it, but we can't trust you. Please tell me the truth. "
"Never!" Captain Kirk yelled.
The interrogation session lasted the rest of the night and got quite involved, and Peter was right, it took a lot more than kissing before he finally told her where the Federation's troops were deployed.
Lia pulled her hand back from Peter's sleeping form. Her hand was shaking, and part of her wanted to laugh. She loved Peter's sense of humor. Captain Kirk. Lia could just see him, conquering the galaxy. "Fire at will, Mr. Chekov! Damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead!" Venkman to the core.
Another part of her was aghast. How had she let herself get so involved in his fantasy? It hadn't happened with Winston the night before. That time she'd kept control, observing events. But tonight Lia had been unable to keep her objectivity, instead becoming enthralled with the game. Something she'd have to guard against in the future. Lia glanced at Peter again.
He was smiling that sweet smile, the bad boy smile. Without warning she felt herself go hot, just looking at him. In some ways he reminded her of Justin. So cocky, so sexy, so exquisite. If he was that good asleep...
Get a hold of yourself! she screamed mentally. Lia staggered to her feet, backed up a few paces, and stared at Peter coldly. They killed Justin. Nothing can change that. Nothing will change what has to be done. You will destroy them, and no matter how much you like them, they are lying, killing, murderous fiends. Remember that.
Closing her eyes, she faded to fog, not letting herself look at Peter again.
Lia materialized in Justin's apartment. Opening her eyes, she moved over to the couch, unseeing. I have to remember why I'm doing this. I have to think of Justin.
She looked across the room at the two statues. Lia and Janine, darkness and light, age and youth. Diametric opposites embodied in stone and wood. Justin had been very talented. His genius had been obvious two centuries ago, during the War of 1812. Lia laid back on the couch and remembered that night.
It had been at a party in Boston. The war had been going on for a month and Justin, like many young men his age, was in the military. The navy, in fact. She'd been introduced to him at dinner and had been struck by his confidence, his sense of surety. Among all the young men there he alone seemed to have a purpose, a sense of self that overshadowed men decades his senior. Intrigued, she'd struck up an acquaintance that had grown to friendship.
She remembered the first time she had seen his statues. "I'm an artist, it's all I've ever wanted to be," he said. Justin was showing her some of his latest work, his face coming alive with his inner vision. He swung around. "I'd like you to pose for me."
Lia opened her eyes, swung her legs off the couch and sat up, then walked to the statue. She'd agreed to pose for him. Even now, she couldn't say why, what impulse had guided her. It wasn't something respectable widows did and Liana Caudwell was supposed to be very respectable. Maybe she'd sensed his potential. A year later when he was lying near death from wounds received in battle, she had brought him into the world of the vampire.
Peter was like him. That was why she'd lost control tonight, that and the loneliness. She missed Justin so much she'd been trying to fill the hole in her heart with someone of his passion and imagination.
But you will not fill it with the soul of the one who destroyed Justin. Lia picked up Janine's statue, regarding it thoughtfully, and smiled unpleasantly. A present for Janine. Yes. I wonder what her reaction will be. Perhaps I should be there when she opens it... she shook her head regretfully. No. It's too great a risk; I can't trust myself not to give something away, the state I'm in now. I'll send it to her and then wait for Janine to call her good friend Lia, upset and scared, and tell me about the creep who'd sent her one of Justin's statues. Perfect.
And, she thought grimly, I will avoid Peter's dreams for a while. Feed off other mortals. I will not be defeated by my own weaknesses. The Ghostbusters will be the ones to break, not I.
Janine signed for the package eagerly, thanking the delivery boy. It wasn't her birthday or any holiday. Maybe this was a surprise from the guys, or an apology from Egon for what he'd said before. She walked back to her desk, looking for the scissors, slicing through the tape.
Impatiently she ripped open the box, discarding wads of tissue paper carelessly, then froze. Her knees gave way and she dropped into her chair, staring in horror at what the box held.
Egon came out of the basement, saying, "Janine, we're going to have to order some more capacitors soon, Ray and I need to build a few more traps-" then stopped when he saw she wasn't listening, arrested by her expression. "Janine?"
Janine ripped her gaze away from the box with an effort. "Hmm?"
"Something wrong?"
"No. Nothing." Janine put the box under her desk, feeling its presence there like a malevolent entity. "Did you need something, Egon?"
"Capacitors. About 40 of them. Please order them, okay?" Egon was still watching her, looking perplexed as he handed her the list of sizes and types of capacitors.
Janine let out a breath and plastered a smile on her face. "No worries. You'll get them by next week, Egon." She watched him go upstairs, shaking his head. Then she grabbed the phone and dialed Lia's work number.
"Analysis Department, Lia speaking."
"Lia! It's Janine. I've got a huge problem, can you meet me at the Bluebell after work?" Janine tried to keep the hysterical edge out of her voice.
Lia's response was soothing, calming Janine almost immediately. "Yes, I can meet you around eight. Try to stay calm. No matter what it is, I'll help. Okay?"
"Yeah, sure, but you don't know..."
"No matter what. I have to go now Janine, but I will be there."
Lia hung up the phone with satisfaction. Come eight o'clock, she'd have the opportunity to scare Janine out of her mind.
Janine played with the little packets of sugar on the table, her nervousness very obvious as she waited for Lia. The box was on top of the table and she was studiously avoiding looking at it. Where the heck was Lia?
Lia tapped Janine's shoulder. "Hi," she said.
Janine nearly jumped out of her skin. "Don't do that!" she hissed as Lia slid into the seat across from her and signaled the waitress.
"One coffee for me," she said to the waitress, "and something without caffeine for my friend. She's tense enough as it is."
Janine waited until the waitress left with her order, then shoved the box over to Lia. "Look," was all she said.
Lia lifted out the statuette and studied it. "It's exquisite," she said, "but why does it have you so upset?"
Janine looked into Lia's eyes and felt a surge of fear. "Justin made it," she whispered.
Lia looked intrigued. "It's you, isn't it? But why show it to me now?"
"Someone sent it to me today!" Janine said in a tense whisper. She couldn't seem to calm down, the fear climbing higher inside of her with each breath. "I don't know who and I don't know how, but somehow they got it out of Justin's apartment and sent it to me. Why? Who would do this?"
"I don't understand. Justin didn't send this to you?"
Janine paled. "Justin's dead. He couldn't have sent it. I wouldn't want it anyway. I wouldn't want anything from him."
Lia put her hand over Janine's, looking concerned. "Take a deep breath, Janine. Why does this have to mean something? Maybe they settled his estate, and his executor thought you would want it. She doesn't know he hurt you. Or maybe they were cleaning out his house and had to send the statue somewhere, and knew you posed for it."
In spite of Lia's words, Janine felt herself growing more terrified. Visions of Valentine's Day swam in front of her eyes. Justin's face right before he bit her, the cold in the park, the pain - all made her more scared than before. "You don't understand," she said, her voice breaking. "You don't understand."
"Listen to me. He's dead. He can't hurt you. There is no way you receiving this statue has anything to do with him," Lia said, leaning forward urgently. "You're safe. No one's going to hurt you."
Eventually after almost an hour of talking, Janine calmed down, feeling exhausted by her emotions, run out and spent. Lia smiled at her. "You're being silly. Nothing's wrong. Okay?"
"Okay," Janine said tiredly. Lia was right. She'd gotten strung up over nothing, and now she had a killer headache because of it. Justin was dead, he couldn't hurt her again. "Thanks for listening. I don't believe how worked up I got."
"Don't mention it," Lia said, licking her lips, looking satisfied, her face glowing with health.
When Lia returned to her home that night, she stretched out and considered how her course of action was going. Not bad, she thought. All bases covered.
Egon was effectively neutralized, dazed and disoriented. The hypnosis she was applying efficiently kept him from thinking about things she didn't want him to think about: Justin Tremaine, vampires, how to do his job properly... basic stuff. It wasn't useful for anything complicated but that was all right, as long as she saw him fairly often, at least once a week, she'd be able to manipulate his emotions with a few simple post-hypnotic suggestions. Lia grinned. The great Dr. Spengler falls before a woman's touch, she thought smugly. And not Janine Melnitz's, either!
Janine would be kept in a state of near-perpetual hysteria for most of the summer. A note here, a statue there, and it would all add up to an extremely scared secretary. With a little mental shoving, a little emotional prodding like she was doing to Egon, Janine wouldn't notice that the symptoms exhibited by her friends were remarkably similar to what she went through when she was dating Justin Tremaine. Lia frowned. Of course, it's not exactly alike. I can't bite any of them, that would be too obvious. Besides, I can get similar results with subtler methods, it just requires more care, more time, more patience, and more work. She closed her eyes, stretched out her arms. But it'll be worth it. They'll be useless when it comes time to rescue Ray. I'll manipulate them all through his disappearance, and they'll never find him in time.
She'd have to remember to keep manipulating them, when the time came. Otherwise her influence would fade and eventually they'd remember what she'd blocked, and begin to suspect someone was messing with their minds. Perhaps she ought to write it down somewhere, exactly what she planned for Peter to dream and Winston to have nightmares of, what Egon was supposed to forget, what Janine's reactions were going to be. Lia opened her eyes and shifted uneasily. The dreams were the most necessary and riskiest part of her plan. They couldn't all have nightmares at once, they'd figure out something was going on. But she could sap Peter's and Winston's energy through the dreams she sent, put them under extra psychological stress with a few well-chosen nightmares. Placing a couple of basic road-blocks in their brains would hide her sabotage of their unconscious minds. It was unfortunate she found Peter so attractive.
Lia got up and paced around the apartment. It was everything your average New York Yuppie would like. Lia found it rather cold, and extremely pretentious. You went to all the trouble of fixing up this place, this "set" for your character as Lia Escobar, she thought to herself. You even found a job where you can work days away from sunlight and still maintain a seemingly normal schedule as a human being. You seduce Dr. Spengler, terrify Janine, and put as much stress as you can on Winston. After all that, do not blow this entire operation over the hots you have for Peter Venkman!
She stopped at the doorway to her bedroom, thinking of the dreams she had sent Peter. It was possible to feed off erotic dreams and she enjoyed participating in them with Peter, but compared to the energy she could siphon off the nightmares she would give him... There was no comparison. Sheer terror and adrenaline were aphrodisiacs as potent as blood. She would have to be very, very careful in her dealings with Peter.
Just remember all of the things you're going to do to Ray, and what that will do to Peter. Remember how angry and scared he's going to be. Wait for it. I will control this. I will not jeopardize my honor for any mortal. Not even Peter.
It was about a week later she had the first indication that her plans had been successful. Lia was brushing her hair, one hundred and nine strokes, when the doorbell rang. She straightened up, surprised, brushing a few strands out of her eyes. Who on earth... ? She went to the door and looked out the peephole.
Egon stood in the hall, hunched into his jacket, looking tired and miserable.
Lia stood back from the door and smiled to herself. Something at Central was obviously wrong. Good. Anything that made the Ghostbusters unhappy made her very, very glad. The little mental time-bombs she had set in Egon's mind were going off nicely - he had become stressed and instead of discussing it with Ray or Peter or Winston he was here at her door. Wonderful.
Opening the door, she blinked sleepily, although she had been hours away from slumber. "Egon? What are you doing here so late?"
"Can I come in? Please?" He looked vulnerable and hesitant, as if he'd bolt at any moment. Lia pretended to consider, then nodded and opened the door for him to pass.
"Nice place," Egon said absently, pushing up his glasses.
"You've seen it before, Egon," Lia said gently, leading him to the couch. "Remember? You picked me up here last week, before the concert."
"Oh, right." The physicist glanced around, not particularly interested in his surroundings but trying to be polite. "I forgot. It's still nice, though."
"Why are you engaging in all this small talk?" Lia asked bluntly, sure she had an idea.
"Peter... " Egon stopped, and Lia glimpsed a shade of anger, quickly stifled. "I can't deal with him right now. Or Janine. Or anything, it seems." He got up and started to pace the living room, not looking at her.
Lia folded her hands, and tilted her head. "Did you have an argument with them?" She tried to appear interested and concerned instead of gleeful. It's working. It's working!
"I had an argument with Peter. About my relationship with you. He seems to think I'm spending too much time with you. Not that he put it in so many words. But anyone who spends as much time away from Central as he does has no reason to be critical," Egon said sharply. He paused, an exasperated expression crossing his face as he pushed his hands through his hair. "And Janine... " He couldn't seem to find the words.
Shaking her head, Lia got up and walked over to him and took both his hands in hers. She waited until she had his full attention, his gaze locked into hers. "Egon, we knew Janine might have problems with our friendship when we first became involved. I thought she would have dealt with it before now, but I guess," she shrugged helplessly, "I was wrong. You can't let it bother you. We're going to be together, no matter what either Janine or Peter says. You care about me," she said firmly, compellingly, "And I care about you. We just have to have faith in that."
Lia watched her influence take effect as her words sank deep into his consciousness, reshaping his feelings for her. For a second Egon seemed confused, then relieved, as if he'd remembered something important, but it didn't last long. An embarrassed look crossed his face. "That's part of why I wanted to talk to you. I mean," he took a breath, then plunged in, "I know I care about you, and that you feel something for me, but I don't know what is going to happen with us. Beyond what's already happened, I mean."
Lia worked her way through that convoluted speech to emerge at the other end slightly amused and worried. Is he fighting my manipulation? I'll have to reinforce it. "Oh. Peter made some comments about our, um, physical relationship." Egon nodded, relieved. "Egon, I must be honest. I'm not quite ready for us to be close like that. I'm still working out things in therapy, and," she paused delicately, "I don't think it would be fair to you if we became involved any more seriously until I'm ready for it. If you can't wait, I'll understand."
"Who said anything about not being able to wait?" Egon smiled warmly, looking into her eyes. Lia concentrated a moment, and then Egon said as naturally as if he'd thought of it himself, "Peter is just jealous. And Janine has always been insecure. I'm happy with our friendship the way it is. I'm certainly not going to put any pressure on you. I just had to discuss this with you. I hope you understand." Egon glanced at her in concern. The lost look was back in his eyes, the look of a victim manipulated into something he didn't understand. The arguments with Peter were hurting him as much as they were angering him, and it was obvious to anyone with eyes to see that Egon was confused.
"Of course, of course," Lia murmured, kissing him on the mouth softly. It's all starting to work. Dissension, tension... lovely. And now that he's seen my apartment, that's one more detail I won't have to attend to later. Perfect. A few more weeks and they'll be ready to kill each other.
July was the worst the Ghostbusters had ever known, professionally or personally. As the month progressed Winston and Peter became more and more lethargic, their energy seemingly sapped by the New York heat. Egon spent half his days in a dream-world, in his lab doing experiments or out with Lia. Needless to say, both of these developments adversely affected their job performance. Near the beginning of the month it just looked like a run of bad luck: goopers that should have been caught on the first call took two or even three tries to capture; Winston injured his knee on a routine call, putting him out of commission for a week; Peter wrecked a client's backyard when his thrower got out of his control; and Egon's carelessness nearly exploded his own proton pack.
But as the month wore on, it became clear no one had their minds on the work, with the exception of Ray. Even Janine seemed affected by it. She was tense and high-strung, never relaxing, snapping at the least remark. She also found her former defensiveness about Egon on an upswing for no apparent reason. Ray found that more and more he was having to play the peacemaker between her and Peter, or Janine and Egon, or Egon and Peter. Winston always seemed to be in a depressed mood, not snappish like Janine or hazy like Egon, but tired and non-responsive. The littlest thing - unwiped dishes, laundry duty, or a thoughtless remark - would escalate into heated arguments and criticism. Ray didn't know what to do, he felt fine but was beginning to suspect his colleagues were coming down with some kind of exotic flu.
Peter was having a rough time of it. After one particularly vivid erotic dream starring Egon's girlfriend Lia, he had gotten into a cycle of extremely realistic wet dreams. They starred different women and took place in different settings, but were so incredibly tangible the real thing compared unfavorably to his fantasies. After about a week they took on a new dimension - horror. Not overtly horrific, but deeply disturbing. He would be making love to a woman and then, after the last kiss, she would die softly in his arms. Or they would be about to have sex, he would be ready, it would be great - and then she would suddenly jump out the window to crash to her death 15 stories below.
And on and on, each dream erotic until something terrible would kick in. Not quite nightmares and not quite wet dreams, they were beginning to worry Peter, who found himself trying to be with real women every chance he got. This was nothing unusual but the desperation behind it, the deep wish to not be alone in bed at night, was driving him to sleep with more strangers and to be away from Central on a regular basis. Which didn't favorably impress the other Ghostbusters, who wondered when Peter had gotten so compulsive. Peter attributed his lack of energy to not sleeping well when he wasn't with a woman, and to not sleeping at all when he was.
Winston was having the same problem, but not to the same degree. The dreams were enjoyable enough, but he didn't seem to be able to concentrate during the day and he felt tired all the time for no reason. He found himself intensely irritable with his co-workers, having no patience with Peter's mistakes even though he knew he was making the same ones himself. Egon's absent-mindedness was driving him crazy, and Ray's cheeriness had him thinking of homicide.
Egon thought he felt fine; a trifle absent-minded perhaps, but hardly in a fugue state the way Peter had accused him of being a few days before. He was annoyed with his colleagues, though. They simply couldn't seem to pull their weight on jobs, with the exception of Ray. Winston and Peter were always complaining of weariness and the heat, making mistakes, and snarling at people for no reason. His relationship with their secretary had deteriorated too. Seemingly resigned or approving of his relationship with Lia to begin with, Janine had become overly defensive, not wanting to hear about it, finding fault with Egon and Peter at the least opportunity. Peter seemed to have developed a complete lack of discretion or taste, sleeping with anything that moved, and his constant flirting with Lia put Egon on edge.
Janine was frankly scared. The harassment hadn't stopped with the statue. Someone had made a practice of dedicating "So In Love" to her on her favorite radio station at odd times, and she'd gotten another package a week after the first. This one had been Justin's black silk robe. She'd gone to Lia in hysterics again and had let her friend calm her down, but she was now convinced someone was trying to scare her.
She didn't mention it to the guys because she felt faintly ashamed of her reaction. Obviously someone was just trying to scare her a little, and she shouldn't let it get to her. As Lia had pointed out, if she let her fear show, whoever it was would just step up the intimidation tactics. But anger was what she felt most of the time; angry that someone was picking on her, angry that the guys were goofing off, angry at the stupid clients... just angry all of the time. Terror was what she felt when she was alone with no one to lash out at.
All of this had Slimer confused and depressed but there didn't seem to be anything he could do, except avoid Peter when he was snapping and try not to get in anyone's way. It got to the point that he was hanging out with Ray on a daily basis, mostly because everyone else's tempers were too unpredictable to be around.
All in all, it wasn't surprising there was an explosion of monumental proportions the last day of July. It didn't involve the containment unit, but it did almost tear Central apart at the seams.
Peter stomped angrily into Central, at the end of his rope. Winston wasn't far behind, growling under his breath.
"How'd it go?" asked Janine guardedly, watching them from behind her desk.
"Don't ask. Just do not ask, Janine. The genius is bringing up the rear. With what remains of Ecto-1 and Ray," Peter snarled, throwing his proton pack into the cabinet and slamming the door.
"Ray got hurt?" Janine asked in alarm.
"No, but not because Egon was being careful, I can tell you that," Peter snapped. The main door opened, to show Egon and Ray pushing Ecto into the firehouse, the car sporting a flat rear tire and various new dents and scratches. They stopped the car in front of the fire pole, wiping their foreheads and breathing hard.
"Is it salvageable?" Winston asked wearily, sitting on the floor in front of Janine's desk, head and hands hanging limply.
"Barely," Egon said shortly.
"Hey, it'll be fine with a little work. It's in much better shape than when I bought it, that thrower landing on it hardly hurt it at all," said Ray, forcing cheeriness. He was watching Peter uneasily.
"Are you okay, Ray?" Peter asked dangerously, watching Egon with slitted eyes.
"Fine, really. I'm not hurt at all," Ray said hastily.
Egon lifted his head tiredly. "You don't have to say it, Peter. I knew that maneuver would be risky. And I know I should have given Ray more warning before I attempted it. Next time---"
"Next time could get one of us killed," Peter said with hostility, unwilling to let Egon off the hook for nearly hitting Ray with a proton stream. Damn it, for the last month he's been in the ozone, Peter thought angrily. When is he going to wake up and realize he's going to endanger one of us with his forgetfulness?
Egon was shame-faced and defensive. "I know," he said quietly. "I know. I'm sorry, Ray."
"Sorry's not good enough." Peter interrupted Ray before he could get a word in edgewise. "You've been out of it for the past two weeks, either in the lab or with Lia or thinking about one or the other when you're not. We need you at 100% if we're going to do this. It's too dangerous for someone who can't concentrate."
Stung, Egon retorted, "You shouldn't talk. How much have you cost us in damages in the last week alone? I may not be putting my entire attention on the job but at least I'm not making it impossible to get anything done, unlike some people."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" Peter rashly asked. Ray was beginning to worry, there had been arguments before this but this one was escalating more rapidly than usual.
"I mean that verandah you wrecked last week. I mean the spook you let get away two days ago. I mean never being able to find you for early calls because we don't know where you are. That's what I mean," Egon concluded.
"Just because I happen to have been with one or two women last week-"
"Peter, you've been with half of Manhattan in the last week," Egon snapped.
"Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean I have to take a vow of celibacy!" yelled Peter, hurt by Egon's remark, not wanting to explain about the nightmares that were driving him into strangers' beds. I am not going to explain about the dreams. I've got this under control. I don't have to justify anything to Egon, dammit!
Egon went dead white with anger. He started toward Peter.
Ray jumped in front of him. "Cool down, big guy, he didn't mean it. Egon," Ray said warningly, trying to catch his eye. "Come on, get a grip."
Winston joined in. "Say you're sorry, Peter. That last remark was outta line."
"Outta line? Outta line? He nearly gets Ray killed and I'm outta line? Like hell. Service the proton packs by yourself, I'm taking a walk!!" Peter stalked out the door without looking back.
Egon didn't say anything, he just headed upstairs to his lab and quietly shut the door behind himself, leaving the remaining Ghostbusters to stare after him.
"So what are we going to do now?" Ray asked plaintively.
"I... have... no... idea." Winston sounded exhausted. Janine stole a concerned look at him. He looked drained, really unhealthy and tired.
"Maybe one of us could talk to Dr. Venkman?" she suggested half-heartedly. Ray looked dubious. "Maybe not," she finished tiredly.
"I think they need time to cool off. But everyone's been so tense, I don't know how they're ever going to calm down... that's it!" Ray said excitedly, his face lighting up.
"What's it?" Janine asked with hope.
"Time to cool off! We need a vacation! Janine," Ray said, a determined look on his face, "Cancel our appointments for the next week, starting the day after tomorrow. We're going on our camping trip."
"Ray, m'man, I don't know if that's a good idea. Alone in the wilderness with those two? It'll be like 'Deliverance'," Winston grimaced.
"Trust me, Winston. Besides, you really need a break, you look like you're about to drop. Leave everything to me," Ray said with more confidence than he felt. I just hope I can convince Peter and Egon now.
"Egon. Egon, will you shut that off and talk to me?"
Ray reached toward the microscope's light, but Egon stopped his hand and turned it off himself. Readjusting his glasses, he treated Ray to a long-suffering look. "What is it, Ray? I'm in the middle of something."
"We have to talk. Everyone's been so jumpy lately, and you've been so distracted-" Ray paused at Egon's guilt-stricken look and added hastily, "I'm not mad at you, Egon. The move with the proton thrower worked and I'm fine, so there's no problem."
"So what do we need to talk about?" Egon asked warily, leaning back on his stool and eyeing Ray carefully.
"A vacation." Ray's enthusiasm got ahead of him as he started to explain. "It's August, we're in New York, we're overworked, I say it's time for our annual camping trip. Think about it: the clean air, no pressures, and time to study all the molds and spores in their natural environment!" Ray beamed at Egon.
Egon's mouth quirked, interested in spite of himself. "I could use a break. And I think Winston needs some time off also. He looks terrible." Egon took off his glasses and polished them, not looking at Ray. "However, the thought of sharing a camping trip with Peter in his current state of mind does not appeal to me. Unless he calms down, I don't see how the two of us could be in the same car for four hours straight without one of us committing an atrocity."
"Don't worry about it, I'm going to talk to Peter. He had a point, you know." Ray said slowly, feeling his way around the subject by the expression on Egon's face. Right now there was no reaction. "That was a clumsy throw and one of us could have gotten hurt. But more importantly, you didn't give us enough warning. You know we're always willing to try something new if you let us in on it; why didn't you give us a clue about what you were going to try?"
Egon looked back at Ray exhaustedly, feeling defenseless. "I didn't think of it," he admitted. At Ray's surprise, he said, "I can't apologize enough, Ray. I think I must really need a vacation. I'm starting to endanger the team with my carelessness. Peter was right."
Ray grinned. "If you tell him that when I get him back here, I guarantee we'll have the best camping trip ever."
Grimacing, Egon nodded. "I'll apologize, if he'll take back what he said about my relationship with Lia." Egon's jaw was granite. Ray nodded, worriedly wondering how easy that would be, and when Egon had gotten so defensive about Lia.
Ray caught up with Peter at the end of the day when the other Ghostbuster wandered back into Central. "Where've you been?" asked Ray as Peter headed to the fridge for a cold one.
"Out," Peter said shortly, popping open the top of the can and taking a deep swig. Ray studied his friend carefully. Peter was looking as bad as Winston - haggard, with dark circles under his eyes, his usual energy seemingly absent.
"I'm worried about you, Peter," Ray said, steering his friend into a chair without much effort. Peter glanced back at him inquiringly. "You're tired and mad all of the time, and I think you're coming down with the flu. I think you should take a break."
"Really? And what about Egon? He hasn't exactly been doing a terrific job either," Peter replied heatedly, shrugging Ray's hand off his shoulder.
"He needs a rest too. That's why I think we should all go on vacation."
Peter looked up in surprise at Ray's statement, then eyed his friend consideringly. It wasn't a bad idea. A week without calls, without Egon around to get on his nerves, and maybe he'd be able to get some sleep. He grinned at Ray tiredly. "I knew there was a reason the professors thought you were a genius. Sounds good to me. I think I'll just spend my vacation here, in bed."
Ray took a breath. Now comes the hard part. "Peter, if you stay here at Central, you know something will come up and you'll have to go out on a call. We always have that kind of luck," he said, grinning. "The rest of us are taking off, and if you stay here an emergency will happen and then where will you be?"
"You gotta better idea." It wasn't a question. "Well, what is it?"
"Come with us on our annual camping trip," Ray said, rushing the words out before Peter could protest. "Egon's sorry he messed up and he said he'd apologize if you would. Come on, it'll be fun."
"Apologize?!? For what, telling him the truth? If he doesn't get his head out of the clouds one of us is going to be fitted for a mahogany box!" Peter's yell didn't have much punch to it, he hated being on the outs with Egon. Lately, he's just been so wrapped up in Lia or his research I can't even reach him, he thought. How else am I going to get through to him when he's never here?
"No, he agreed he screwed up and that he's hurting the team," Ray said, watching Peter carefully.
"He did?" Peter was relieved. Maybe he's coming out of it.
"He wants you to apologize for that crack you made about his relationship with Lia. He feels really strongly about this, Peter. I've never seen him get so attached to a woman before, and he doesn't want you to be making jokes about it," Ray finished, shrugging helplessly.
Peter stared into his can of beer, thinking. Maybe he just had to accept how close Egon was getting to Lia and deal with it. Otherwise, if the relationship went on for an extended time, his attitude could cause more problems. Besides, he hadn't meant what he'd said. It used to be Egon would have known that without being told, though.
But, Peter thought tiredly, it used to be you had enough sense not to say something like that in the first place. So who are you to long for the good ol' days?
"Okay. Deal. I'll apologize if he will. Then we'll all go camping and get eaten by wild animals, and they'll live happily ever after." Peter smiled to take the sting out of his words.
"Great!! I'll go get Egon!" Ray was out the door before Peter could blink. He leaned back in his chair, too weary to try and follow the younger man. Getting old before my time, he thought fleetingly.
Winston walked into the kitchen, heading for the refrigerator. "Glad to see you made it back. You looked like hell when you left."
"This from someone who looks like an ad for Nytol vs. the leading product," Peter retorted, watching Winston defrost the hamburger for dinner in the microwave.
Winston grinned. "So what do you say about that vacation idea of Ray's? Personally, New York City in August is so wonderful..."
"...that you just can't stand to leave. Me too. I say we're outta here as soon as we pack," Peter said, as Winston added spices to the meat and made patties.
"Ray already had Janine cancel our calls for the next week. Makes me glad someone around here can still think. My brain feels like it's packed in styrofoam," Winston said.
"You too," Peter said thoughtfully. Maybe Ray was right, maybe they were coming down with the flu. Except the flu doesn't give you nightmares, does it, Dr. Venkman? Peter winced at that thought.
Egon warily entered the kitchen, stopping across the table from Peter. "I'm sorry, Peter." He had a hard time meeting Peter's eyes but he forced himself to do so. "I lost my temper, and you were right about my forgetfulness. I could have really hurt Ray and that's unforgivable. My only excuse is not feeling well, and it's not good enough. All I can say is I'm sorry."
Peter's hostility melted in the face of Egon's genuine remorse. The physicist looked so completely contrite that Peter was reminded he'd said some pretty unforgivable things