Thanks to Sheila and Kitty, for getting me into this crazy pastime in the first place!

New Year's Resolutions
By Christina Kamnikar
Copyright 1992

It all really started on New Year's Eve. Janine got locked in an art gallery overnight after a wild party that resulted in her two friends' leaving, each thinking she was with the other. Instead she was in the watercolor exhibition exchanging life-stories with a guy she'd just met.

Nobody knew that until much, much later....

So tease me, and hurt me
deceive me, desert me,
I'm yours,'til I die,
so in love, so in love,
so in love with you am I
am I

The band played in the background as couples circled the dance floor in shifting pattterns. Balloons and streamers fluttered in the breeze from the open balcony doors, and a few people were starting to leave. It had been a great party.

Janine leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. She felt a little dizzy from the champagne and the lateness of the hour. While Janine knew Pam and Alexandra were around here somewhere, she didn't feel like finding them, because she was enjoying feeling sorry for herself. After all, it was New Year's Eve and she hadn't gotten her New Year's kiss at midnight. Egon had decided that he had to remain on call since Peter and Ray were at a party out on Staten Island, and Winston was still recovering from a sprained ankle. So, he couldn't come to the party at the Eva Rendell gallery.

Egon, Peter, Ray and Winston, Janine thought. Good buddies. They were good to work for too, even though they really didn't pay her enough, conSydering what she put up with. It was just the same old thing. Her feelings for Egon were making her miserable.

"When are you going to give up?" she asked herself. Tears started to fill her eyes. She quickly walked out of the room, hoping no one would see her. Down twisty corridors and small staircases she strode, until she had to stop and catch her breath, trying to cheer herself up. Get a grip Janine, you're becoming a cliché. The secretary who's in love with her boss, depressed on New Year's Eve. You've got better things to do. Lots better things. For instance, looking at this picture in front of you. What is it, anyway?

Janine tilted her head, trying to figure out what the blobs of blue and red paint were supposed to be. "I think it's a duck," said a voice behind her.

She whirled around. Leaning against the wall next to a picture of a stormy sea stood one of the more gorgeous men she'd seen lately. Blond hair, blue eyes, tall - just like Egon, Janine thought before she could stop herself. But no, he didn't really look like him. There was a sense of coiled energy about him, like a tiger, with none of Egon's calm. He reminded her of Sting, or maybe--who was that actor in LADYHAWKE? The one who'd played the knight in shining armor?

Realizing she was gaping, Janine got a hold of herself with an effort. "You scared me," she accused. "I thought there wasn't anyone in this wing."

"Sorry," the man said penitently. "I came here to be alone, and when I saw you standing there I couldn't resist the impulse to surprise you. I'm Justin Tremaine."

"Janine Melnitz," she said. "Charmed, I'm sure," she added with a raised eyebrow and a wary look at him, not sure if she should be alone with some guy who liked to sneak up on people.

"Likewise," he responded, seeming bemused. He looked like he wanted to say something.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"You don't know who I am, do you?"

Janine shrugged. "Should I?" she asked. She had to put up with Peter's I-am-famous schtick, but not this guy's. No matter how cute he was.

"It's supposed to be my party," he said.

"Whoops," responded Janine. "That's right; Pam mentioned you, that you've got an opening in a few weeks. And you're a painter?"

"Sculptor."

"Right." Janine looked puzzled. "So, what are you doing back here?"

"It's my party and I'll hide if I want to," he snapped, then looked a little ashamed of himself. He smiled, showing even, pearly white teeth, like a toothpaste commercial. "One of my ex-girlfriends showed up and it got a little messy."

"Wow, I'm sorry."

"And what is a lovely lady like you doing here, trying to make sense of Del Jared's ugly splotches?" he asked, straightening himself and walking over to her. "Don't tell me you're hiding from your boyfriend, I won't believe it."

"I wish," muttered Janine. Justin looked at her questioningly. "He couldn't come," she explained. "I mean, he's not my boyfriend, and it wouldn't matter if he was here... oh, it's too hard to explain," she trailed off, looking away from him.

"I think I get it," he said sympathetically, putting his hand on her arm. Somehow that made Janine feel better. "It's rough, not having what you want sometimes."

"Yeah." She smiled at him. "It would be easier if I didn't have to see him all the time, but I work for him, so..."

Justin grinned. "What a jerk," he said, plainly admiring Janine."He's obviously as blind as Del Jared. Ugly painting, no?"

"Yes, I mean, no, he's not, and yes, the painting's awful, I don't know what it's doing here," laughed Janine. She was already feeling better. It wasn't as if she wasn't used to Egon not showing up (even when's he's there, he's not there, she thought) and Justin was very, very good-looking.

They walked back toward the party, but were stopped at one of the glass doors Janine had blindly walked through before. It was locked.

"Oh, no," moaned Janine. "What are we going to do now?"

Justin frowned, his whole forehead, eyebrows and mouth contracting in concern. "I have no idea. But there's got to be another way out."

They looked for nearly half an hour before they realized that they were really trapped, at least until morning. Justin was starting to become tense. "Someone you have to get home to?" Janine asked before she could stop herself. He was just looking too upset for the circumstances.

"No, I'm claustrophobic. I mean, I know it's not a small space, but just knowing I can't get out..."

"Sorry," said Janine contritely, with a little bit of nasty relief that he didn't have a girlfriend.

"Well," he suddenly turned the blinding smile on her again, "at least I got trapped with a very pretty woman. Things could be a lot worse."

"They certainly could," murmured Janine. She checked her watch. 4:54 AM. Hadn't Pam said something about the gallery opening at seven for a special program in the morning? She conveyed this information to Justin. "What time is sunrise?" he asked. In response to her look, he explained, "I'm suppose to be ballooning with a friend on Staten Island at sunrise."

"I think you're going to miss it; the sun's coming up at about a quarter after seven this time of year, there's no way you'll make it."

Justin still looked relieved. "But he won't have taken off yet," he said. "I can give him a call and tell him what happened." Janine looked doubtful. "He's got a car phone," added Justin.

"Well, I guess," she said.

For the next two hours they talked about everything. His work, sculpting life-like fantasy statues, and hers, being secretary to the Ghostbusters. His childhood in Massachusetts, hers in the Bronx. His ex-girlfriend Violet, who was still following him around, and her feelings for Egon. Janine was amazed---he was so easy to talk to, and she felt so comfortable with him that she already felt like they were old friends.

Janine's watch read 6:59 when the doors all simultaneously unlocked. "Whew, what a relief," said Justin. Janine had noticed how pale he'd looked all night, as he fought his claustrophobia. As they approached the front doors, Janine saw that the sky was just beginning to turn rosy-gold and there was a little traffic outSyde the gallery. "Oh, Happy New Year," she said.

"Happy New Year, Janine," said Justin, then shocked the hell out of Janine by giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "Um, Janine," he started.

"Yes?" Janine felt a little dazed.

"Can I call you?"

She grinned. "Sure, you know the number. Just like the commercials." She turned back to shut the door.

"Great. See you."

Janine turned to say something else to him, but the Sydewalk was deserted.

Now, where the heck did he go? thought Janine confusedly. He was right here...

Janine had just about given up on Justin Tremaine. It had been more than a week since New Year's and she was going to write him off as an accomplished flirt, when the phone rang on Tuesday at Ghostbuster Central.

"Ghostbusters, whaddaya want?" she said, filing her nails.

"Is it all right to call this number if I'm not being haunted?" asked a voice on the line. Janine was confused. Where had she heard that voice?

"Is Janine Melnitz there?" continued the voice, as Janine recognized it as Justin.

"You got her," she said.

"Hello, Janine, I don't know if you remember me---"

"How could I forget a fellow prisoner?" she asked. "Did you make it to the hot-air balloon in time?"

"What? Oh, no. No, I didn't. Listen, I just got tickets to the opening of the new Michael Douglas film, and I was wondering if you were free tonight."

"Sure! I'd love it. What time, and where should I meet you? The Plaza?"

"No, I'll pick you up at six o'clock. That is, if you don't mind?"

Janine looked up at ceiling, and did a little dance in her chair. "Mind? Why should I mind? Six o'clock is great. See you then."

"See you soon, Janine."

Janine grinned as she hung up. Well, this could be interesting.

Five o'clock came and went, and Janine stayed at Ghostbuster Central, which invited some comment from Peter Venkman. "What, do you love this place so much you can't leave at five?" he asked her.

"Fat chance. My date is picking me up here."

"Ooh, really? What, he's too cheap to drive out to Brooklyn?" Peter grinned and leaned back in Janine's chair, putting his feet up on her desk. Janine swatted them off as soon as he was settled.

"No, it's just more convenient to pick me up here. And speaking of here, you better not be when he shows up. I don't want him thinking I work for sleazy schlockmeisters."

"Wooo-hoo, trying to impress the guy? Let me guess, you're going to tell him you're an administrative assistant to professional parapsychological removers, instead of the secretary to the Ghostbusters?" he teased. At her murderous look he hastily added, "Not that you aren't, not that you aren't. Really, and you're underpaid, too. I'll think I'll get out of here now." Peter retreated to his office.

Janine was completely bowled over when a limo showed up at six, the sunroof open to the sky. Justin appeared, standing through the sunroof, holding out a bouquet of twelve red roses. "Hope you like arriving in style, Ms. Melnitz," he said as he handed her the flowers.

She smiled. He was even more gorgeous than she remembered. "Mr. Tremaine, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Three weeks after that first date, during which they had several more dates to the movies, the theatre, and even a basketball game, Janine realized that Justin was beginning to mean a lot to her. She was redoing her makeup at Ghostbuster headquarters before her date with Justin that evening, at an art gallery where some of his work was being shown. While one part of her mind was on the upcoming evening, another was analyzing why she was so surprised that she cared about him. Was it because she was used to not getting what she wanted from Egon? Or because Justin was so different from most of her boyfriends? He was kind, conSyderate, flattering, and exciting; but she always felt relaxed and at ease with him. Janine had believed that the dates wouldn't lead to something serious, but now it looked like she'd been wrong. Meanwhile, there was the question of her attire for tonight. She looked at herself in the mirror, readjusting the strap on her dress. On the shoulder or off the shoulder? Up or down?

She went back to her desk, gathering her purse and makeup together as Egon came down the stairs, engrossed in a computer printout. "Egon," she called, "What do you think?"

Egon turned his gaze upon her. "About what?"

"About the dress, silly. Do I look okay, what d'ya think, should I have the straps on or off my shoulders?"

"You look very nice, Janine," said Egon absently, and then walked downstairs.

Two weeks ago his complete inattention would have infuriated or depressed her, or galvanized her into trying even harder to catch his attention. Instead, Janine felt the desire to laugh. She could have been wearing a spangled G-string and Egon would probably said the same thing - 'you look very nice, Janine.' She grinned, feeling a little giddy.

As she walked to the subway and boarded the train, she conSydered why she felt so great. Maybe it was because she was so relaxed. With Justin, she didn't even have to try to catch his attention; she always had it. Even when they went to parties where cover-girl caliber models and beautiful actresses were present, he didn't notice them. She had teased him about it once, after a very obviously air-headed young rock singer had been coming on to him at a party, and he had brushed the little blonde off with a curt comment about "art-groupies".

"You're so much more vital and real than they are, Janine. That bimbo hasn't the brains or personality of a flea. Why should I look at other women when I have a neon-flashing example of life right in front of me?" Janine had blushed, feeling embarrassed but happy at the same time. What do you know. If you quit trying so hard and just be yourself, the right guy does come along. Mom was right. How weird.

As Janine entered the party, she experienced one of the few down-Sydes to being with Justin: feeling out of place. It wasn't so much that the other people at the gallery party were richer or classier than she was, but that they seemed to belong in a way she didn't. Maybe it was because they had all contributed something to the evening, either their artwork or money or mangerial talents to help make it happen, while she always felt that she was there only because she was Justin's girlfriend. Plus, she realized with a sigh, she was overdressed.

She went over to the bar and got herself a drink, feeling self-conscious in her glittery dress. While everyone else was attired in casual suits or semi-casual winter outfits. Janine stood out like the neon Justin had compared her to. She walked over to where two women her age were admiring one of Justin's figures, a three-foot tall study of a beautiful mermaid looking out over some carved rocks. It was done in a pale, pale wood that she thought might be balsa or willow---she couldn't keep the names straight sometimes. The other women were making some comments on Justin's model, who evidently had been that same Violet he'd complained about before. To judge from the statue, she was very lovely; but Justin had put something rather unkind into his interpretation of her. The expression on the mermaid's face was one of longing, pleading. She seemed to be lookingoff into the distance for something which she knew wasn't there.

One of the women, a willowy blonde in a light jade pantsuit, smiled at Janine. "I've seen you around here before, haven't I?" she asked. "I'm Sydney Price. I help manage this gallery. You're Justin's girlfriend, aren't you?"

Janine smiled and shook her hand. "Yes, I'm Janine. Janine Melnitz. It's a great show, isn't it?"

The other women, a severely coiffed brunette in a too-tight black dress, sniffed. "Well, I suppose. But it's not as if Justin couldn't do better. I don't think he tried very hard for this opening. Of course, he'll blame it all on his choice of models but really, the way he led Violet on, he has no one to blame but himself if his work isn't finished."

Janine bridled, feeling the insult on Justin's behalf. "I think it's great. Especially the magician over there, it's terrific."

The brunette looked down her nose, tossing her head. She smiled superiorly. "My dear, exactly how much experience do you have? With the art world, I mean," she added sweetly.

"I'm not really in the art world, I mean, I'm a secretary, but Justin's work..." Janine said angrily.

"Oh, gods, a critic and a secretary. Who will Justin pick up next?" sniped the woman, and sailed away toward a knot of critics, looking smugger than the winner of a Nobel prize.

Janine started after her, muttering "I'll give you secretary!" But Sydney restrained her with a gentle hand on her elbow.

"Ignore Jessica, she's just jealous. She made a big play for Justinafter he broke up with Violet, and he wasn't having any."

Janine sighed. "I guess she just hit a nerve. I don't really feel like I belong here, and I keep hearing about Violet. What's the story there, anyway?"

Sydney avoided her eyes, studying the statue. Its wistful gaze was looking even more avid to Janine now, more like an accusation. "I don't really know, Janine. Violet Fleming was dead gone on Justin, but from what I heard, she couldn't handle his possessiveness. They broke up sometime around Halloween. But as soon as they broke up, she wanted him back. She'd show up at parties, and get drunk and stupid and beg him to come back. It was weird, almost as if..." Sydney stopped.

"Almost as if what?" asked Janine, feeling even more tense than when she'd walked into the party.

"Almost as if she couldn't help herself," Sydney said reluctantly. "Look, forget I said anything, it doesn't have anything to do with you and Justin."

"Right, sure," said Janine, but she couldn't calm down. She rubbed her arms, feeling chilled. Justin could be pretty possessive. He hated to see anyone flirting with her. "Can't you see they're just out for a good time?" he would ask her. "They're pick-up artists." "This girl is not so easy to pick up," she'd retorted. Somehow it was comforting that he could get jealous. Not that she'd ever give him any reason to be...

Felling out of sorts, she was relieved to see Justin finally enter the room. He walked over and kissed her on the cheek, putting his arm around her. "Enjoying yourself?"

"More, now that you're here."

"Great. Let's blow this popstand."

"Justin," she laughed, protesting, but secretly hoping she wouldn't have to stay there all night.

"No, I'm serious, there's no one here I want to see. Just buyers and sellers, and this is the sort of thing I pay Sydney and Gary to take care of. Let's go back to my place," he said, stroking her face. "I want you to see my real work."

"Well...."

Janine looked around Justin's loft with delight. It was even more interesting than she'd imagined it would be. There weren't many windows but it still had a big, open feel to it. A fireplace dominated one corner, a bar another, with a big cream sofa in front of it. But the thing that most drew her attention was his workspace. Different shapes, sizes, and kinds of woods lay on blocks, along with his tools, neatly lined up on a bench. On the wall were 3-D pencil studies of some of his work. Chamois and soft rags were spread around the room, ready to finish off completed works.

One of his completed works stood alone in front of a heavily draped window. "Ooohh," breathed Janine. It was exquisite, a small 18-inch figure of a woman in ebony. She was facing into the wind, her hair flowing down her back in waves. Her face was commanding, impassive, like a distant goddess, her arms clasped over chest like an Egyptian pharoah. She was beautiful.

"Like it?" asked Justin.

"It's gorgeous."

"It's one of my first works; I wouldn't part with it for anything. An old... friend of mine posed for it. You know," he said, crossing his arms over his chest, and studying her intently, "I could do a really terrific companion piece to that one, if you'd pose for it."

Janine laughed, incredulous. "Me? Pose for you?"

"Um-hmm," he responded, then changed the subject. "What kind of music do you like?" He walked over to a large video/audio system.

"Hmm. Well, how about that Red Hot + Blue album you were playing in your car when we went to the picnic in New Hampshire?"

As the strains of U2's version of "Night and Day" filled the apartment, Justin walked over to Janine and bowed. "May I have this dance, mademoiselle?"

Janine giggled. "Oui," she said, holding out her arms.

They danced slowly in a circle around the loft. Janine dreamily looked at the rest of the apartment, hardly seeing it. Paintings, sculpture, dark draperies---as k.d. lang's cover to "So in Love" wafted into the apartment, Justin chuckled. "They're playing our song," he whispered.

"So they are," said Janine softly. "So they are."

Janine closed her eyes, as Justin nuzzled her ear. She kissed his shoulder, then his neck. He moved his mouth to hers, and they kissed for a long time. When the kiss broke, they stared at each other for a moment, until the tension lessened. She smiled. He grinned lazily.

"I really like you, Janine," he said.

"The feeling is mutual," she replied.

They started dancing again, Justin breathing lightly on her neck. And then something strange happened.

Janine was feeling dizzy, and for a second she thought she felt a sharp pain in her neck. Then she was overcome by a feeling of relaxation, as if every muscle in her body simultaneously went "aahh." She could barely hold her head up, her feet hardly moving, and she had to put all of her weight on Justin. She felt very warm, and safe, and secure. And sensuous, which was a little weird conSydering how weak she felt. Finally, she pulled her head off of Justin's shoulder with an effort. She gasped, then laughed.

"You bit me!" she said.

Justin licked blood off his lips with a cat-like smile. "I wanted to leave a mark on you," he said. "To show you were mine." Then he pulled her into his arms again, sweeping her around until she was dizzy, laughing into her hair.

The next morning, Janine checked her appearance in the hand-held mirror she kept in the bottom drawer of her desk in case of emergencies. She'd stayed out so late the night before that she'd slept straight through her alarm, and as a result she was late for work for the second time in a week. Not that the guys would really notice or anything bad would happen... she was only a couple minutes late...

"Late night again, Janine? Where will the madness end?"

She jumped. Dr. Peter Venkman leaned against the filing cabinets behind her, smiling his most irritating grin. She glared at him, too tired to think of a good comeback. "Don't start, Dr. Venkman. I have a splitting headache."

"That's what you get for partying into the dawn, Ms. Melnitz. Now if you'd been in bed like a good little girl..."

"Grrr. How do you know I wasn't?" snapped Janine, reorganizing the papers on her desk. But maybe Peter was right. She just hated to miss any of the things Justin found to do. Still, she was awfully tired - maybe they'd just do something quiet this weekend.

"Black circles under bloodshot eyes, 'splitting headache', shaky hands from exhaustion, scratchy voice from smoke-filled discos---"

"Maybe I'm coming down with the flu, did you think of that, smart guy?"

"Turtleneck to cover the hickey...."

Janine slammed the drawer to her desk, trying not to blush, which was hard not to do, both because he was on-target and because red-heads usually look like stoplights when they're embarrassed. "Dr. Venkman! Why don't you keep your personal comments to yourself for once?!?"

"Because I like to share them, Janine. I'm a giving kind of guy."

Janine glowered, but whatever she was about to say got lost in the arrival of Ray Stantz and Winston Zeddemore.

"C'mon, Peter, we've got that Class 5 in Queens this morning. We don't want to show up late, do we?" asked Ray, bouncing on his toes, his bright morning cheeriness in direct contrast to Janine's pallor. Ray Stantz loved morning calls. His motto might have been "Start your day off right, bust a ghost before first light."

"No, Ray, that's the last thing we'd want to be." Peter grinned again, and lifted an eyebrow at Janine. She didn't notice, her head in her hands.

"Where's Egon?" she asked.

"Finishing up an analysis he started yesterday. We don't really need him for this one, this ghost shouldn't even be as much trouble as Slimer," answered Winston.

"Not that that's saying much," pointed out Peter, as the semi-transparent green ghost floated by his head, sliming him en route to the kitchen. Slimer stuck his tongue out at Peter but kept going, smelling pancakes - it had been Winston's turn to cook.

"C'mon, guys, c'mon already!" Ray yelled, opening Ecto-1's rear door and shoving the proton packs inSyde.

"Well, I guess that leaves you all alone with Egon, Janine," said Peter, heading for the car. "Try not to get too crazy while we're gone."

Janine shot him one last dirty look as Ecto left the firehouse. Egon and her getting crazy. Ha! Fat chance, Dr. Venkman. Not that she wasn't capable of it, but Egon? Never. Not like Justin.

She smiled to herself. Slimer floated back in, syrup and slime mixing freely as he munched on six pancakes at once. "What's up, Janine?" he asked as the phone rang.

"My love life, Slimer. My love life." Slimer looked confused as Janine picked up the phone.

Egon Spengler tabulated his results on the computer and frowned. There wasn't as much variation in the times as he'd thought there would be...

"Yo! Egon! Are you deaf? We got pizza!"

"Pizza!!!" Slimer yelled, zooming out of the lab at the speed of light. Egon looked disgustedly at the graph again, saved the file, and went down to the kitchen. Maybe some food would help concentrate, so he could see the anomaly.

The blond scientist paused in the doorway of the kitchen, watching his colleagues break into the Domino's. Slimer had already stuffed four pieces into his mouth and another piece in each hand. Egon wondered why he didn't just materialize another pair of hands so that he'd be able to finish the pizza before anyone else got a piece. Peter's hair was in his eyes and he was leaning back in his chair, two of its chair legs off the floor, his mouth almost as full of pizza as Slimer's. He was gesturing wildly, illustrating some point about the Class 6 they'd caught that afternoon. Egon estimated that it would be about two more minutes before he either fell off the chair or knocked something over. Ray was opening the box of pepperoni pizza, laughing and shaking his auburn head. Winston was slurping on an extra-large Coke, swatting Slimer away from his pizza.

Egon smiled. Home.

"I assume the job at the TV repair shop went well?" he asked. Taking a slice of anchovies and mushrooms, he pushed his glasses up while watching Winston shake his head in tandem with Ray, both grinning at Peter.

"What? It's my fault that TV set was destroyed when that spook was drawn out of it?" Peter said, putting another piece of pizza in his mouth.

"No, Peter, but asking the owner of the set for a date afterward by saying 'Hi, I'm Peter Venkman and I'm famous' might lead somebody who didn't know you to suspect that you did it on purpose," said Ray. Winston chuckled around his drink.

"It might lead someone who did know you to feel sure you did it on purpose. You could have gotten that spud way before..."

"Oh, gimme a break, Winston, like you've never done something to impress a girl."

"Using your job to pick up girls is in execrable taste, Peter." Egon took a bite out of his pizza. "Ha! I do not use my job to pick up girls. Women use my job as an excuse to pick up on me. And I didn't see you complaining when we left you all alone all day with Janine," finished Peter.

"Janine was here all day?" questioned Egon, surprised. He'd thought he was alone. Usually Janine would at least come up and invite him to share lunch with her, or offer him some coffee. But he hadn't seen her at all that day... actually, Egon had been wondering if she hadn't been avoiding him lately for some reason. Not that it wasn't nice to get some work done without any interruptions whatsoever, but still...

"What? You didn't see her? Guess you're only second-string now, Egon," said Peter.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" he asked in surprise.

"It means Janine is tripping the light fantastic with someone who doesn't trip, my friend. She has deserted you for wilder times with another guy." Peter made an incredible save and kept himself from falling on the floor or dropping his pizza by re-balancing at the critical moment.

Egon checked the clock, distracted. One minute, 45 seconds. Close. Meanwhile, Ray asked the question he hadn't wanted to.

"Janine's got a new boyfriend? Since when?"

Winston answered. "Two weeks, maybe. What do you think, Peter?"

"Sounds about right. Late nights..."

"Putting on more makeup right before she leaves..."

"Phone calls she doesn't want anyone to hear..."

"Basic deduction: Janine has got herself a new guy," concluded Winston. "Plus, she's ignoring Egon, a first. Any other guy she's gone out with before never kept her so occupied she couldn't flirt with Egon at the same time."

Egon frowned. "All of this speculation about Janine's love life is purely conjecture, gentlemen. And beSydes, it's none---"

"Janine's love life is up," chirped Slimer.

"Huh? What do you know about it, Slimer?" asked Ray.

"I say 'What's up?' Janine say 'My love life,'" answered Slimer. He burped heavily.

"You are so gross, spud," said Peter, and then burped also.

"Maybe we better get a look at this guy the next time he's here," said Winston. Ray nodded.

"Bad idea, guys." Peter slurped his Coke. "Janine will not thank you."

"We're not going to be obvious about it, Peter. We'll be subtle." Ray beamed. Janine deserved a nice guy, and it was good to think that she had found someone.

Peter rolled his eyes. Ray Stantz being subtle. That would be a first.

Egon frowned at his pizza. Janine had a boyfriend. A serious boyfriend. Well. That was... interesting....

Janine sipped her hot chocolate slowly, watching Justin explain why he liked to work in alabaster more than marble. "Alabaster's a softer stone, and it doesn't allow for as many mistakes, but any figures that you make with it are more lifelike and you can get a lot more detail into a smaller area." He smiled at Janine. "Say you'll sit for me, Janine. I can make a great study of you, something fantastical, draperies--- yeah, I can see it, with your hair whipping across those terrific cheekbones. I know it would be a lot of work for you---"

"Are you kidding? I'd love to have you sculpt me," she answered. "But we won't be able to go out as much if you're going to have me sit for you. Not that I mind, this pace is starting to kill me."

Justin laughed. A casual observer would have noticed a superficial resemblance between Justin Tremaine and Egon Spengler. It was more a matter of coloring than anything else. Both were tall, blond, blue-eyed, with pale skin and classically sculpted features. But there the resemblance ended. Maybe if you described each to someone who had never met either, maybe then someone could mistake one for the other. Janine didn't have that problem.

In fact, the past four weeks had been some of the most fun she'd ever had. Justin knew lots of people in the New York art world as well as the publishing establishment, so their dates had been an endless round of parties and openings... all the things Janine loved to do, but were occasionally hard to find someone to do with.

But that wasn't why Janine liked Justin. She liked him because he was fun, no matter what they were doing, and more importantly, he really wanted to be with her, and he wasn't afraid to say so.

"I am so glad I got locked in that art gallery with you," he was saying right then. "I mean seriously, do you know how bored I was with Yuppie businesswomen and ex-debutantes? ASyde from the fact that they've already done everything, all they can talk about is money. It was like dating zombies!! You are so different from them."

"I know, I know." Janine grimaced, stirring her cocoa. "I'm not that cosmopolitan, or very sophisticated..."

"Hey, cut it out. You are just fine. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be." He took both her hands in his, smiling into her eyes. Janine's heart stopped for a barely noticeable second, then started up again. She smiled back.

"So, what about sitting for me this weekend, say, Saturday night? We could combine romance with work..." Justin said, stroking her fingers. Janine started to shiver. He was definitely a change from Egon, who she would have had to bludgeon into making a declaration like the one Justin had so easily made two seconds ago. The pottery scene from GHOST flashed through her mind, making her wish it was already the weekend. The physical Syde of their relationship wasn't bad either. Not that they'd gotten really physical yet, but what they had done... oh, boy.

"I could come over earlier," she said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Janine, you know I'm on a tight schedule," he said, frowning. Then he smiled again. "Not that it's not a great idea, but it's just not possible. I've got meetings with agents and owners until six. Why don't you come by around six thirty, after sundown?"

"Okay. But we're still on for Friday night, aren't we?"

"Of course. I never disappoint a lady." He kissed her hand. That, thought Janine, sums up the situation perfectly. No disappointments, and being treated like a lady.

Ray was watching Janine redo her face before she left on her date. Red lipstick. Green eyeliner. "Damn!" Janine swore softly. The eyeliner had smudged. She wiped it off and redrew the line. Ray leaned back on the step. He and Slimer were just out of sight, sitting on the stairs like two little kids watching their mom get ready for a party. Ray wanted a look at Janine's new boyfriend before he introduced himself. He checked on Janine's progress. Blusher. She needed it too---Ray was beginning to think that Peter was right, that the late nights were taking their toll on Janine. She looked not only pale but a little gray around the edges.

Peter had left an hour ago on a date with yet another new girlfriend--Denise something. He'd laughed when Ray had told him what he was going to try to do. "Ray, Janine will kill you if she thinks you're scoping out her new boyfriend," he'd said affectionately. "But be sure to tell all the juicy details tomorrow."

Egon was attending a seminar on accelerated particle movement, and Winston was visiting his parents, which left Ray and Slimer to check out Janine's new boyfriend. Not that Janine wasn't entitled to a personal life, but Ray had always half-hoped that she and Egon would get together. Oh, well. The least he could do as a concerned friend was make sure the guy was nice enough for Janine.

"Janine, my love, are you ready yet?"

Ray and Slimer craned their necks to see who was standing in the doorway. Ray couldn't tell where he'd seen him before, but as he got closer Ray was sure he knew him. But from where?

Ray stood and slowly descended the stairs. Janine's boyfriend was blond, tall, and dressed in a rumpled white suit that looked expensive. What was most extraordinary about him was Janine's reaction to him. Her face was flushed, her eyes were glowing, and she looked positively... ecstatic.

He cleared his throat. "Um-hmm," he said.

Janine jumped. "Oh, Ray, I didn't see you there," she stammered.

He smiled. "I kind of got that impression. Don't mind me, I'm just...going to the containment unit. I have to check on something before Slimer and I watch 'Attack of the 50-foot Woman'." Slimer hovered closer and closer to the blond man, checking out Justin's clothes. Justin's back was to Ray, and Janine wasn't looking at him, so no one saw exactly what he did, but whatever it was, Ray was surprised to see Slimer back off nervously. Usually the ghost loved people. I wonder why he doesn't like this guy? Ray thought, as Slimer zipped downstairs, looking frightened.

"Oh, Justin, this is Ray Stantz, you've heard me talk about him..."

Justin turned a noncommittal gaze on Ray, hardly seeming to notice him. "Hello, pleased to meet you," he said automatically. Then he turned his entire attention back to Janine, watching her intensely. Ray felt as if he'd been completely dismissed.

"...and Ray, this is my... friend, Justin Tremaine. We're going to Carnegie Hall..."

"Janine, we're going to be late, m'love. Come on."

"Sorry, I'm ready now."

"See you around," Justin said to Ray without a second glance. Ray wondered if the guy would even be able to describe him if someone asked him what Ray looked like.

"Hey, I don't want to make you late," said Ray, watching Janine cautiously as she hurried into her coat. "Just be sure to take good care of Janine. We like to know that she's okay." Boy, was that a mistake, he thought a split-second later.

Janine glared at him, her mouth open to say something furious, but that wasn't what had him worried. The guy---Justin, he reminded himself---was finally giving him his full attention and Ray sort of wished he wasn't. He had blue, icy eyes, and they were sizing Ray up like he was a Syde of beef.

"Are you interested in Janine? Romantically, I mean?" asked Justin. The look he gave Ray became more threatening by the moment.

Ray stuttered out, "No, I mean, she's a good friend, why would you ask me--" while Janine looked aghast.

"Great," said Justin smoothly," then you won't mind my asking you to mind your own business, will you? This way, Janine, we're going to be late as it is." He shepherded Janine out the door, one hand on her back, obviously anxious to get her away from Ray. Janine threw Ray one half-apologetic, half-angry glance over her shoulder but kept going without a stop.

Ray let out a breath as the door slammed behind them. "Whew, what just happened?"

Slimer drifted back in from the basement. "Guy gone?" he asked tremulously.

"Yeah, Slimer, he's gone. I'm glad, too," added Ray. Justin was wrong, all wrong for Janine. As he walked back up to the TV room, he pondered on why he disliked him. Okay, the guy was a bit rude, but it was something else... something, he realized, that had scared Slimer. Ray conSydered it as the credits for 'Attack' began to roll across the screen. The guy just seemed too... intense.

But if Janine liked him, he had to have some good points. And Janine really liked him, Ray thought, remembering her face as Justin walked in. She'd looked so happy. Ray wished Peter were there to talk it over with. Maybe he was overreacting to Justin Tremaine.

But there was a little, scared feeling at the back of Ray's mind that told him that he wasn't wrong. Justin Tremaine was bad news.

Ray checked the clock again, wishing that it wasn't an act of suicide to wake Peter up before noon on a Saturday. He really wanted to talk to him about Janine's boyfriend. Not, he reminded himself again, that there's anything we can do about who Janine dates. But I'll feel better after I've compared notes with Peter.

"Ray, it is exactly three minutes later than the last time you checked the clock. What can be so important that you're practically fidgeting your way out of that chair while you wait for Peter to wake up?" asked Egon, looking over his section of the newspaper.

"Janine's boyfriend."

Egon looked irritated. "It is absolutely no concern of ours whether Janine has a new boyfriend or not. Leave it alone."

Winston looked curious though, setting his cup of coffee down before asking Ray, "You saw him? What's he like?"

"Winston--"

"It's normal to be curious, Egon. Janine's changed since she's been going with this guy. What, we're just supposed to completely ignore the fact that there's a new man in her life? Like we don't care what happens to her at all?" Winston shook his head. "Uh-uh. Maybe you don't want to hear about it, but I do."

"Hear about what?" Peter wandered into the kitchen, hair rumpled and sticking out at strange angles, barely awake enough to navigate the stairs from the bedroom to the kitchen. He grabbed a handful of cold cereal from the box and stuck it in his mouth before sleepwalking to the coffeemaker and pushing the buttons to restart it.

"Janine's boyfriend, Justin. I met him last night and he's all wrong for her, Peter I think the guy's a jerk," answered Ray. "Slimer didn't like him either. And I keep having the feeling I've seen him somewhere before, but I don't know where."

"Ray, Ray, Ray." Peter yawned hugely, and took his coffee over to the table and slumped in a chair. "Start over. Slowly. Say, at less than machine-gun speed? And begin at the beginning. What does Lover-boy look like?"

Egon snorted, apparently concentrating on an article in the sports section. Ray ignored him. "Well, he dresses great. I mean, really rich-looking, I don't know, like he's an actor or something. And he's tall." Ray looked at Egon. "About as tall as Egon, maybe. He's got blond hair. Oh, yeah, his eyes are blue---"

Peter choked on his coffee. Winston looked at the ceiling and whistled aimlessly. Ray looked confused. "What?"

Egon put his paper down. "Don't say it."

"Say what?" Ray asked the table at large.

"Oh, I don't know, Ray. I mean, who else do you know that's tall, male, with blond hair and blue eyes?" Peter asked innocently.

"Egon!!" yelled Slimer happily, entering the dining room and grabbing some food, and giving Peter a sloppy kiss on top of his head that messed up his hair still more.

"I wasn't going to say it, Egon," said Peter, studiously avoiding looking Egon in the eye, and giving Slimer an absent-minded backhand swipe that missed by a mile.

"It's a coincidence," Egon said flatly.

"Oh, I don't know about that," said Winston judiciously. Peter buried his face in his coffeecup, while Winston met Egon's fuming gaze unfazed. "I'd just say Janine is being consistent, wouldn't you? BeSydes, that's not the point. The point is, Ray thinks the guy is a creep."

Peter propped his head on his hands. "Tell us everything that happened, Ray. Janine can date whoever she wants, but if the guy's a creep we ought to keep an eye out for trouble."

After Ray finished describing his encounter with Justin Tremaine, Peter frowned. "It doesn't sound like much."

"Peter, I'm telling you, the guy is creepy. Look how he scared Slimer, and how pushy he was with Janine---"

"Time-out." Peter motioned with his hands. "I'm not saying he's Prince Charming. I don't think he's God's gift to Janine, either. She's been acting weird and exhausted for a couple weeks now and I think he has something to do with it. But it could be that they're partying down every night."

"I'm not making this up," Ray said earnestly. "I just have a really bad feeling about this guy."

Peter sighed and scrubbed his face with one hand. "If it will make you feel better, I'll check this guy out the next time he comes by, okay? But I still think there's nothing wrong. Janine just needs to learn how to party all night without having to sleepwalk through the day. Or to leave partying to the professionals, like me."

"Well, Mr. Professional Partier, if you and Ray are finished dissecting our secretary's personal life maybe you can conSyder for a moment that it is still not our concern. And that maybe the best thing you can do is let Janine make her own mistakes." Egon put the paper down and stalked stiff-legged out of the kitchen.

Winston raised an eyebrow at Peter and sipped his coffee. Peter came back with a what-can-you-do-when-he's-being-unreasonable look, shaking his head. Ray felt awkward. Maybe it wasn't anything they ought to be messing with. Then he remembered the way Justin had watched Janine.

He'd almost looked... hungry.

Peter whistled loudly, ostensibly studying the ceiling, but in reality waiting for Janine to lose her cool and come into his office. She'd already hinted twice that she didn't want him to be there when her date showed up and Peter was betting that if he kept it up she'd actually get around to threatening him if he didn't leave. Janine was starting to look like her old self, at least physically. But she'd become even more absent-minded over the weekend. "Space Cadet" summed it up for Peter.

He smiled his sweetest and most innocent grin at Janine as she finally gave up and entered his office, hands on her hips, looking angry and pleading at the same time. "Peter," she started.

Peter looked over his shoulder in shock. "Who are you talking to?" He met Janine's glare. "Well, you can't be talking to me, I'm Dr. Venkman. Or should I say 'buster'."

Janine bit her lip, avoiding Peter's eyes. "I want to ask you for a favor," she said in a stifled voice.

"This ought to be good," he said. "Anything that gets you to call me Peter..."

Janine's head came back up, but the fury didn't last long. "Don't be here when Justin arrives." Peter smiled expectantly at her, obviously waiting for something. Janine gritted her teeth. "Please."

"How can I resist when you ask so nicely?" asked Peter innocently. Then he paused and conSydered, shaking his head sadly. "With difficulty. But I can still do it."

"DR. VENKMAN--"

"Why should I go? Why do you really want to get rid of me, Janine? And don't say anything about schlockmeisters."

She groaned, hanging her head. "Justin's--kind of--jealous, okay? So please don't be here."

"He's jealous of me? I've got to meet this guy and set him straight."

"Not of you, you jerk!! Of anyone! I mean, he's a little possessive, that's all. If you weren't here it would make things easier, Dr. Venkman."

"Why should I make things easy on you?" Peter stopped, struck by something. "Is that why Ray got such bad vibes off the guy? Because he pulled a jealous boyfriend act?"

Janine looked uncomfortable, fidgeting. "He didn't mean it. You see, I told him I used to be hung up on Egon, and he's never met him so he thought Ray--"

"Might be competition," finished Peter. He looked at her thoughtfully, an unholy smile blossoming on his face. "All the more reason to stick around."

"Listen, buster, if you're not gone by the time Justin gets here---"

"Too late."

Janine spun around, earrings bouncing. "Justin, I wasn't expecting you yet." She let out a breath. "I'll grab my stuff, and then we'll get out of here." She pointed a finger at Peter. "Ignore him. Ignore anything he says. Especially if he says anything about me." She stormed off to get her coat, determined to get Justin out of there before Peter had time to work any of the Venkman magic on him.

Peter watched Justin warily, although he had the usual aren't-you-glad-to-meet-me look on his face. How did the guy just appear out of nowhere like that, without either he or Janine noticing? Of course, the filing cabinet blocked his view of the door, but still...

Justin seemed to be sizing up Peter also, turning a laser blue look on him. "Peter Venkman?" he asked.

"The one and only, a legend in my own mind. And you have to be Justin Tremaine, Janine's new reason for living." He grinned. "You lucky stiff. But then, you already know that, don't you?"

Justin Tremaine's entire body tensed. The eyes looking at Peter got even colder, harder than before. "Yes," he said slowly, "I am. Might I assume you are Janine's former--how shall I put this---heartthrob?" The guy was showing a lot of teeth, but he wasn't smiling.

"You can assume anything you want, but I don't think of myself that way." Peter watched with interest, and the beginning of a little fear, as Justin seemed to become even more rigid. "Why do you ask?"

"I care about Janine." Justin pushed open the gate to Peter's office, and stood in front of his desk. Ray had been right, he was tall. Peter stood up, but still knew the guy was trying to intimidate him. "I'd hate to think anyone might be trying to confuse her, make her question her feelings for me."

Peter smiled insincerely. "I wouldn't want Janine to be confused either. Tell me, is it just me, or has she been looking a little ill lately?"

That got a reaction. Justin's head jerked, and the smile became a snarl. Peter's flesh crawled, trying to get away. At that moment Janine came back in, coat on, purse over her shoulder. "Let's go," she said, taking Justin's arm, not looking at Peter. Tremaine got control of himself and sent Peter one last ugly look as he walked off with Janine.

Peter sat back at his desk, tapping a pencil on his knee. Ray had been right; the guy was bad news. He might even be dangerous, and he definitely was no good for Janine.

"So, smart guy," he asked himself aloud, "how are you going to tell Janine that?"

9:30 AM. Peter leaned against the firepole, thinking. Janine was late again, the latest she'd been in a week. Egon, Winston and Ray were due back from an extra-early call at any time, but Peter was hoping they wouldn't make it back before Janine showed up. He wanted a little word with Ms. Melnitz. Privately.

The front door slammed and Peter heard footsteps below. The click of Janine's heels passed beneath him as Peter looked down and saw the top of her red head pass the pole.

"Good morning, sunshine," he called down, and then slid down the pole. He turned to say something else to her, but it died in his throat when he saw Janine.

She looked awful. Her skin was practically translucent, drawn tightly across the bones of her face. Her eyes looked even larger in her face because of that, and the dark shadows under her eyes seemed more pronounced than they had been the night before.

"You look like hell, Janine," Peter said before he could stop himself. The bright clothes she usually wore---a green-and-gold glittery scarf, and a gold sweater dress---only made her look even more washed out and sick. She hadn't looked that bad last night when she left; Peter was sure of it.

Janine dropped bonelessly into her chair. "Leave me alone," she said in a colorless voice. "I wouldn't have come in except it was too late to phone for a temp, and I'm sure I'll feel better in an hour or two."

Peter shook his head in disbelief. "Such dedication."

Winston opened the garage doors and Ray drove Ecto into the firehouse. The guys were laughing, teasing Egon about some save he'd made, trapping a ghost and saving an artwork from destruction at the same time, but they stopped when they saw Janine. She looked away, tidying up some papers, but it was obvious to everyone that she wasn't feeling well.

"Janine, if you're sick we're perfectly capable of managing without you for today. Why don't you go home and get some rest?" asked Egon, storing his proton pack.

"Really, Egon, I'm fine." Janine smiled gamely, if pathetically. "There is nothing going on. I feel okay. Everything is fine," she added mechanically.

Peter raised his eyebrows. "Space cadet," he mouthed at Ray, as Janine proceeded to move papers around on her desk like a robot. Winston rubbed his head, looking confused, and Egon looked openly doubtful.

"Come on upstairs, guys, there's something I want to show you," said Peter, making huge hand motions and faces at them behind Janine's back.

"What is it, Peter? What did you want to show us?" asked Ray as Peter lead them into the kitchen. Peter got a Pepsi out of the refrigerator and popped it open, shut the door, and slurped the drink.

"Notice anything odd about our secretary?" he asked.

"Other than the fact that she appears to be sick and denying it vigorously, no, Peter, we didn't notice anything odd about our secretary," said Egon. "Are you trying to make some point?"

Peter nodded, looking serious for once. "I checked out her new boyfriend last night. When she left she was okay, she looked like herself. Today she's late again, she looks sick as a dog, and her concentration's shot. I think Justin Tremaine has something to do with it."

Egon rolled his eyes. "Peter..."

"No, let him talk, Egon, I want to hear this." Winston leaned against the stove and crossed his arms. "Have you got anything other than Janine's appearance to back this up?"

Peter snorted. "Do I ever. I met Mr. Personality last night, and believe me, the guy is an iceberg. By the way, Egon, he's got a serious problem with you, though he doesn't know it."

"That is completely incomprehensible. I've never met him, how can he have a problem with me?" asked Egon in exasperation.

"Janine mentioned that she used to have a crush on you---notice her use of the past tense, guys--- to Justin, and he is righteously jealous. He also acted defensive as hell when I asked him about Janine's physical condition. He doesn't have a real fix on which one of us is the one she used to care about, though. I'd say he's either pathologically jealous or repressing your name, Egon. Or both. Either way, she goes out with him in fair physical condition last night and comes in this morning as one of the living dead." Peter stopped. Something he'd just said had jarred at him, reminding him of something. What?

Meanwhile Ray was getting upset. "We've got to do something, guys! I knew he was trouble when I saw him! We have to convince Janine--" he stuttered to a stop and looked woebegone. "Guys, how are we going to convince Janine that Justin's bad news?"

"What do you mean 'we', Kemo Sabe?" asked Winston with a straight face. "I don't feel like dying today, thanks." He paused, distracted by Peter, who had a weird look on his face, half like he wanted to laugh, half horrified. "Pete, what is with you, man? You look like you just thought of somthing awful."

"I did." Peter looked dazed. "I'll be right back, guys."

Egon, Ray and Winston looked mystified as Peter raced across the room and slid down the pole. "Oh, Janine," he caroled.

Janine looked at him listlessly. "What?"

"Can I borrow your scarf a second?" he asked, grabbing the scarf as he said it and giving her no time to stop him. What he saw confirmed his worse fears. Next to the half-healed hickey she'd been sporting for a week were a fresh set of tooth marks.

"What do you think you're doing?" demanded Janine, grabbing her scarf back, and quickly retying it around her neck.

"Scientific research. Talk to you later." He ran back upstairs.

Egon and Winston were arguing as he returned. "Precisely what do you think this man is doing to Janine? Drugging her? Forcing her to go out every night?" Egon asked.

Winston replied, "I don't know, but he's changed her."

"You're not gonna believe this," Peter said, breaking into the argument. "Our secretary is dating a vampire." He did a double-take. "Didn't we see that on TBS last weekend?"

Egon looked disgusted. "That's it. I've had it. Who Janine dates is her affair--no cracks, Peter--and we will now stay out of it, like we should have in the first place."

"I'm completely serious, Egon. Janine has new bite-marks on her neck. Don't ignore the evidence just because you're feeling defensive." Peter didn't flinch when Egon turned toward him furiously. "It fits, Egon. It makes sense."

Egon reconSydered, calming down. "There's a simple way to check this. If you're wrong, nothing will show up on the PKE meter. She'll just be the same as usual, just coming down with the flu and lousy taste in boyfriends."

"I'll go check! Wait right here, guys!" Ray grabbed the meter and ran out of the room, pausing at the top of the stairs. He sneaked down to the landing and pointed the PKE meter at Janine. As soon as he had a reading he went back upstairs, but Janine didn't even notice him. She was merely staring straight ahead, a glazed look on her face.

Ray came back into the kitchen. "Uh, guys..."

"Nothing, correct, Ray? Janine is fine, nothing's wrong--" Ray slowly shook his head at Egon, who was beginning to look desperate. "What is it, Raymond? Spit it out."

Ray squirmed, adjusted a dial, and said, "Janine shows definite signs of mental tampering and there's a psychic reSydue on her strong enough to register, although I'd guess it's more than six hours old." He sighed and looked up from the PKE meter at the other Ghostbusters, his eyes worried.

Peter looked sober. "And there's something else."

Egon obviously didn't want to know, but he asked anyway. "What?"

"Slimer," said Peter as the ghost entered the room.

Slimer was thrilled. "Peter!!" he yelled, and hurled himself at Peter, who feigned disgust.

"Spud," he said, then stopped himself. "Spud, why didn't you like Janine's boyfriend?"

Slimer backed away, shivering. "Spooky."

Peter couldn't smother a grin. "Coming from you, that's a compliment." Slimer gave him a bronx cheer.

"Can you be more specific, Slimer?" asked Egon.

The green ghost conSydered, thinking hard. "Mean eyes. Felt funny. Like he wasn't there." Slimer looked around apprehensively. "Guy here?" he asked in trepidation.

"No, Slimer," Ray reassured him. "He's not here." He looked at the guys grimly. "But you know she probably has a date with him tonight."

Egon took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Putting his glasses back on, he said, "We can't let that happen," in an inarguable tone.

Winston exchanged bemused glances with Peter. "Did I hear right? Are we going to interfere?"

Peter smiled coldly. "Interfere is the least we're going to do if that slime is hurting Janine. But we have to be careful how we break it to her. Here's how we should handle it..."

Janine held her pounding head in her hands, praying that the phone wouldn't ring. She'd thought she'd licked the bug that was making her ill last week, but it looked like she'd been wrong. If this kept up much longer she would have to stay home sick.

"Janine? Can we talk to you?"

She looked up. The Ghostbusters were ranged in front of her desk, all wearing concerned expressions. She hadn't heard them come in. Where was her mind lately?

"Sure. What's the problem, why do you look so serious?"

Winston spoke. "We're worried about you, Janine."

"That's so sweet, Winston, but really, I've just got the flu---I'll be okay---"

Ray interrupted her. "We're worried about more than your health." He looked at Winston.

"You're not gonna like what we're going to say; but hear us out, all right?" Winston took another breath, looking straight into Janine's face, completely solemn. Surprised by the grave looks everyone was giving her, Janine agreed.

"How long have you been feeling sick?" asked Ray.

She shrugged. "About a week. I thought I was getting over it, but I feel sicker than ever today."

"Janine, we took a PKE reading of you." Ray held up his hand, stopping her question. "We thought it would be a good idea to rule out anything psionic or supernatural, all right? Unfortunately, it showed just the opposite. You've got psychic fingerprints all over you. That's why you're feeling so tired lately and why you're having so much trouble focusing." Janine looked stunned as Ray continued. "Have you been having any weird dreams lately? Any random thoughts suddenly popping into your head from nowhere?"

Janine looked upset. "Well, yeah, now that you mention it. I don't remember them, but I wake up feeling like I forgot something important. And the thoughts--" she stopped abruptly. "The thoughts are kinda private."

Peter looked grim. "I wish I could enjoy this, but---Janine, you're dating a vampire."

Janine looked blank. Then she grinned. "You've lost it, Venkman. Check yourself into therapy, now."

"He's not kidding," said Ray. Winston nodded, trying to see how she was handling it.

"You've got bitemarks on your neck for the second time in a week, and for the second time in a week you look like hell. All of this since you started dating Justin Tremaine. And there's more," said Winston, looking back to Ray.

"Slimer is scared to death of him, and from what he said we think your friend is mentally shielding himself pretty heavily. At the very least he's a person with psychic talents who's used to hiding it from others. But we don't think that's what's going on," finished Ray.

"I know that this can't be pleasant for you, but you must acknowledge that something weird is going on. For all of these symptoms to be present since you started dating someone who is by all accounts extremely disagreeable points to the obvious conclusion that Justin Tremaine is a vampire," said Egon, watching Janine intently.

"I think you guys have lost it!! I start dating someone new and I'm sick at the same time, and you think he's a vampire because of a couple hickeys!! You've all been working too hard, you know that?!?" yelled Janine, but it was a half-hearted yell, choked off at the end by a coughing fit. She was furious, but also really hurt. Didn't those guys trust her judgement or think she had any taste?

"Look at yourself, Janine!" Egon leaned across the desk. "You're sick, and not yourself. The flu doesn't explain all of this!"

Janine got herself together, weak, but still unconvinced. "I don't care."

"WHAT!?!" yelled Winston and Peter.

"I think you're wrong. And even if---and it's a really big if--you're right, that's between Justin and me." Janine looked Egon squarely in the eye. "I really care about him, Egon."

Egon was incredulous. "You care about someone who's hurting you? Are you crazy?"

Janine brought her chin up, trying to look determined, but her pallor and exhaustion worked against her, making her look pitiable. "I don't know that he's hurting me, and besides, you were the one that told me about Count Vostok. He was nice. And I am fine," she said, spacing her words out coldly.

"You are not fine. You wouldn't even be defending him if he hadn't messed with your head!!"

Peter didn't actually see Janine move, but the next thing he knew, Egon's glasses were on the floor and he had a hand imprint across the left Syde of his face. Janine was breathing in short gasps, looking like she was trying not to cry. "I'm taking the rest of the day off," she said abruptly, grabbing her coat and purse and heading for the door.

"Janine," Ray called, "don't leave, he didn't mean--" But she was already halfway down the street by the time Ray reached the door.

Winston shook his head in irony, watching Peter pick up Egon's glasses and put them back on his face. "Egon, what was that supposed to accomplish?"

Peter agreed. "I could have told you how she'd react to that, but nooo. You had to call her crazy and unbalanced. Think that next time, we can stick to the game plan, big guy?"

Egon looked shamefaced. "I'm sorry. But her refusal to accept the truth--"

"It's okay, Egon," said Ray. "But it's going to make this harder if Janine doesn't believe us." He frowned, leaning against Janine's desk. "Maybe she's right. Not about Justin not being a vampire, I mean. But how do we know he's going to hurt her? Maybe we ought to have a talk with him."

"What do you want to ask him? 'Excuse me sir, do you intend to marry that woman or make her one of the bloodsucking undead?'" Peter asked in disgust, flopping into the chair.

Winston was reconsidering, though. "What we need is more information on this guy. So far the only thing we know about him is that he's a vampire and his name. If we had more proof for Janine..."

"She might reconsider," Peter finished for him. "Somehow, I don't think that's going to happen, but it might be a good idea to get a better handle on this jerk. Like where the coffins are buried, so to speak."

Egon concurred. "At least we ought to prove to ourselves that our estimation of him is correct. But, gentlemen," he rubbed the red fingermarks on his face, looking at his friends wearily, "what do we do if we are right? What if Justin Tremaine is turning Janine into a vampire?"

"If Justin Tremaine is a vampire, there are only a few things we can do that will stop or injure him," Egon lectured, having researched through several piles of volumes for reliable information on vampires. It was late Wednesday evening and the Ghostbusters had been kicking around ideas on how to deal with the situation for most of the afternoon since Janine left. Egon felt tired and dispirited. If Janine ended up being hurt because he had lost his temper he wasn't sure he could forgive himself. If she had gone straight to Justin from Ghostbuster Central when she'd left, it might already be too late. Egon was hoping that they had more time than that.

"All of the legends and myths about vampires agree that they have extraordinary strength, drink blood, and have above-average mental control over their victims. They are also quite specific about their vulnerabilites--- namely, sunlight, wooden weapons, and silver."

"What about turning themselves into bats or mist? Count Vostok could do that," said Ray, referring to the Transylvanian vampire they had met a few years back. Ray was especially worried about Janine. He'd tried to call Janine's home several times and gotten no answer.

"That varies. So do the myths about how a new vampire is created---some say that a person who dies of vampire bites rises from the dead and becomes a vampire, some say that there is a specific 'ceremony' involved in the transformation, and one even says that all it takes is a dog or cat crossing a person's fresh grave," answered Egon, absently running his hand through his hair. "I don't know how much trouble Janine is in yet. If the three-bite theory is correct we haven't much time. But if a ceremony is required, we have a little longer. He can't be ready to turn her into a vampire yet." Egon asked bleakly, looking around at the others: "Can he?"

"Guys, there's a simple answer to our questions." Peter smiled insufferably, extremely pleased with himself. "Why don't we just give the Count a call, get the lowdown from the expert?"

Egon looked relieved. "Of course. It's so obvious I missed it. As soon as it's night in Moldavia I'll put through a long-distance call. Then I'll prepare the ammunition we'll need from his specifications."

"How are we going to find this guy?" asked Winston. "If he knows we're on to him he won't just give us his home address. He'll grab Janine and disappear."

Ray brightened. "But if we have a tracking device on Janine we'll know where they are and we'll be able to get her out of trouble." He sighed. "I still hope we're wrong about this. Janine likes him an awful lot."

Peter clapped his hands. "Okay, we've got a plan. Egon calls the Count, Ray gets a tracker together, Winston'll ask all the agencies for info on the bloodsucker, and I'll track down his acquaintances, hope to get some solid dope on this guy."

"And what do we do if we're right?" asked Ray, echoing the question Egon had asked hours ago. Peter met his eyes, feeling the same fear that was on Ray's face. Winston looked as if he dreaded Peter's answer but already knew what it was. Egon said nothing, staring at the floor, his face set.

"Then we do what we have to, Ray. No matter how much it hurts Janine or how much she hates us afterward. Better her alive and hating our guts than dead---or," he added grimly, "undead, as the case may be."

Janine Melnitz slammed her door behind her, locked it, and burst into tears, leaning against the doorjamb. Who did they think they were!?!

All the way home she had been going over it in her mind, trying to think of why the guys would do this, why they would hurt her like this. She got a boyfriend, a serious boyfriend, a handsome, intelligent, successful boyfriend who cared about her, and just because he was a little rude to them they decide he's a vampire. "They're nuts," she said aloud.

She struggled out of her coat, dropping it on the sofa, and walked to the kitchen to grab a chocolate cookie. She stuffed it in her face, then walked back into the living room.

I finally stop worrying about Egon, I get a life outside of Ghostbuster Central, and they decide I can't have a life without their being in the middle of it. Aaaaarrgghh. She switched on the TV, switched it off, and got up and paced some more.

It's not enough that I'm there eight to sixteen hours a day; it's not enough that I put up with being taken hostage, getting slimed regularly, dealing with ghosts, nasties, and never being taken anywhere fun like Hollywood or Japan or Mexico; it's not enough that I endure Dr. Venkman and working for Egon or everything else that happens. I have to have my love life approved by them too!!!

Janine stopped suddenly in her pacing, arrested by the image in the mirror. She stared. She'd always been pale but this was ridiculous. She pulled her scarf off and studied the marks on her neck. The ones from Tuesday were still sore. No wonder Peter thought I was turning into a zombie, she thought. All I need is a shroud. She shuddered.

Her phone rang. She listened to her answering machine pick it up. "Janine?" It was Ray's voice, very worried. "Janine? Are you there?" Sigh. "Please pick up, Janine. He didn't mean it. We're really worried about you. Please call us, okay?"

Janine studied herself as Ray hung up. What if they're right?

Ray and Winston don't play jokes like this; Peter Venkman might, but not them. Egon wouldn't bother. If they say there is something wrong with you, there probably is.

So, she asked herself, the real question is, do you care if your new boyfriend is a vampire?

Janine stretched out on the sofa. Justin was considerate, handsome, sexy, successful, articulate, cultured, caring, and fun. Okay, he was a little possessive, a little arrogant. But vampirism seemed pretty minor next to all of that. Besides, maybe he'd meant to tell her but had been afraid; maybe he was psychic and didn't announce it; maybe the guys were wrong.

Janine went round and round on the subject for two hours, first mad at the guys, then mad at Justin, then herself. Finally she stood up, put her coat back on, and headed for the door. After all, there was a simple way to check this. If Justin was at the gallery in broad daylight then he couldn't be a vampire, right?

She heard her answering machine pick up another call as she left---Ray again. Slamming the door behind her, she fumed angrily. Why should she tell them she was okay, when they were convinced she was the mindless victim of a vampire? They wouldn't believe anything she said.

Janine arrived at the gallery strung out and wound up, hoping like anything that Justin would be there. But she couldn't find him. Sydney saw her wandering aimlessly around the paintings and walked over to her. "Janine? Something wrong?"

Janine turned a relieved smile on Sydney. "Is Justin here? I need to talk to him."

Sydney raised an eyebrow. "No, Janine he's not. Can I help?"

"I really need to talk to him, Sydney. Do you know where he is?"

"I'm his agent, not his babysitter. Besides, this time of day he's usually working on..."

But Janine was already moving. "Of course! Thanks, Sydney, I mean it. I'll talk to you later." Janine flew out of the gallery.

When she reached Justin's apartment, she paused. It all seemed so crazy. He'd probably be really insulted when she told him what was going on. Maybe she wouldn't tell him why she was there.

She knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked again. Maybe he's working and doesn't want to be disturbed. "Justin? It's Janine." Still no answer. She knocked again, pounding really hard. "Justin, open up!! We gotta talk!" Nothing.

Backing away from the door, Janine thought frantically. He could be at the store. He could be at the movies, or getting his car fixed or anything else. Doing his laundry. Anything.

He didn't necessarily have to be sleeping in a coffin.

Janine walked to Central Park, and sat and thought until it started to get dark. She was going to have to think this through. And she wasn't going to work until she knew she wouldn't kill the guys on sight.

After leaving a message for Justin on his answering machine when she got home, telling him to pick her up on Friday at Ghostbuster's Central, Janine sat down to ask herself a few hard questions. But one thought kept recurring: did she care about Justin enough to forget that he was a vampire? Or maybe, to become one herself?

Justin Tremaine finished the letter he was writing, looked over it one last time, then sealed it in an envelope. He checked the clock. 6:00 PM. Very good.

Justin loved winter, but not winter in New York. Usually he'd be in London or Stockholm this time of year, but he really had needed to show his work early this winter and the exhibit at O.K. Harris had provided the perfect forum. And, he reminded himself, if you hadn't stayed in New York you never would have met Janine. She makes up for the inconvenience of only 12-hour days.

He walked over to the window, and drew the drapes back. Justin only did this when he was alone. The view over Greenwich Village was terrific, the lights shining off over Manhattan. Truly New York was a great town---but everything has its downside.

Tremaine frowned, putting his face close to the glass. If it wasn't that I needed the money back in November, I would have left after Halloween. Having to stay made the deception I practiced on Violet necessary. I simply couldn't have everyone believe that she rejected me. I wouldn't have to have manipulated her like that if I'd left for London. But seeing her around all of the time, especially after she told that cow Jessica that she had dumped me---ah, well. We all make mistakes. I'm sure Violet regrets her decision now. I wonder how she is?

Justin pulled back from the window, studying it. The lights of his apartment were reflected in it, along with his study of Lia. He moved to stand between the pedestal on which her statue stood and the window. He could still see the statue in the window.

I'll put the finished work of Janine here, he thought. Yes, it would be perfect. Lia and Janine, back to back, reflected in the window. He walked over to the half-finished piece in his workspace and caressed it lovingly. The basic rough form was completed; Janine Melnitz, draped in a white robe reminiscent of silk, the wind coming from behind her and whipping her hair across her face, her arms hugging her chest. It needed more detail and the line of her back was still unformed, but the basics were all there. It might even be finished by that weekend. Janine would be pleased.

Just then the phone rang. Justin ignored it. His answering machine would pick it up and he didn't want to be interrupted while he was finishing the work on Janine's statue. "Hello, Justin, it's Janine," came the voice from the machine. He looked up, surprised but pleased. Perhaps she was coming over tonight after all. He reached to pick up the phone but something in Janine's voice stopped him. "I can't see you tomorrow night." Pause. Sound of Janine's breathing. "Look, don't come over to Central tomorrow either, 'cause I won't be there, I'm taking the day off." Janine sounded upset; by now Justin knew every tone in her voice as well as he did his own. "I'm not feeling well again and I thought I'd take twenty-four hours to recover so I won't be answering my phone..." She's lying! Justin thought with shock and not a little anger. Why...? "but if you'd come by Central on Friday instead, pick me up there, we can go do something. And Justin..." she stopped again, and Justin realized suddenly, She's been crying. And she doesn't want to tell me about this. "...if any of the guys call, ignore anything they say, okay? I kind of had a blowup with them today so you don't have to talk to them if you don't want to." Another pause. "See you." She hung up.

Justin slowly put his tools down and took a deep breath. He was furious. Janine is lying to me! Me! I trusted her! Why is she doing this!

He reached over and replayed the tape, paying closer attention to what she said. This time his anger cooled to ice as he heard Janine refer to 'the guys' and as she asked him to pick her up on Friday. He knew who was responsible for her being upset, and why.

Walking over to the window, he stared out over the city again. Calm down, he told himself. You knew there was a risk that they would figure it out when you started dating her. Of all the people in New York, they were the most likely. You dated Janine anyway.

Justin smiled. Janine. She was worth a little trouble. In fact she was worth a lot of trouble. The energy he received when feeding off her dreams was incredible, making it almost unnecessary for him to feed off other humans. When she joined him, it would make any minor inconveniences seem petty and negligible. She had such life to her, such passion. He had thought Violet had had that, but it had been much shallower than Janine's lust for life.

I'll deal with the Ghostbusters when I have to. Until then, why worry? It's not as if they can stop Janine from seeing me; she just proved that. But when the time comes, I'm going to enjoy destroying them. Ripping them limb from limb, sucking the marrow from their bones, drinking their blood, and tearing out their lungs. Every cliche in the book.

He smiled even more grimly, his eyes glowing a dull red. Especially Peter Venkman. Him most of all.

Peter walked around the gallery, looking for Justin's work and someone to chat up on the subject of Mr. Teeth. Yesterday's conflagration had resulted in depression for everyone, and when Thursday morning dawned he was up early, dressed in his best flashy suit and trolled the O.K. Harris gallery while Winston went to the Hall of Records and the Department of Motor Vehicles, and Ray and Egon prepared for the worst case scenario. Peter was hoping that they were all wrong. At least about Tremaine wanting to turn Janine into a zombie. I mean, there's no real doubt that he's a vampire, but maybe he's a decent vampire. He let out a breath in a half-laugh. A decent vampire who makes Janine look like one of the undead. Yeah, sure. And I'm Walter Peck.

Peter's spirits lifted as an attractive blonde walked over to him, a can-I-help-you look on her face. "Something you'd like to view?" she asked.

Peter thought about it a second. Then he smiled dazzlingly and said, "So many things. But let's keep this on a professional level, shall we?" The woman rolled her eyes and smiled ruefully. "No, actually," Peter continued, "a friend of mine recommended that I take a look at some of Justin Tremaine's work. Said it was quite spectacular."

"Right over here," said the blonde. "My name's Sydney Price, by the way. I find artists for the gallery. Justin is one of the best ones we have." She smiled at Peter and gestured to a pale mermaid statue. "This is one of his. UNDINE. It's gotten great reviews, but it's already been sold. What did you have in mind?"

Peter studied the wistful siren. "Nice. A little too cute, though. I was thinking something... wilder." He grinned at her, and raised an eyebrow. "What can you tell me about the artist? I mean, how does he get his ideas, where did he study..."

Sydney frowned in concentration. "Justin studied with the late Devin Mallory for about three years. He gets most of his ideas from mythology and from life. For instance, this sculpture is an interpretation of the model Violet Fleming, and the magician over there is based on the late Mr. Mallory. I understand he's working on a sculpture of a snow maiden based on his current girlfriend."

"Janine?" Peter asked in surprise.

"Yes, do you know her?"

"She's the one who recommended the exhibit to me."

"Well, then you already know something about Justin."

Peter grimaced. "Not really. She's keeping him to herself right now, you know how it is, a new romance..." He trailed off as Sydney nodded in understanding. "Hey, I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Walter Peck."

"Nice to meet you," Sydney smiled. "Justin's been working in New York for the past five years but it's only lately that his work has been getting recognition. But buying a Tremaine would be a good investment; the value of these pieces is only going to increase."

"Hmmm." Peter studied a tiny geisha done in jade and quartz. "He works in wood and stone. Are all of his figures taken from life? This one, for instance. Who's she based on?"

"Another... friend of his." The pause before Sydney said 'friend' was barely noticeable but Peter still caught it. He laughed.

"Don't tell me he does a statue of all his girlfriends." Sydney's chagrin showed plainly. "Don't worry, I won't tell Janine. I wouldn't want her to get jealous of former loves." He turned away from the geisha. "They are former loves, right?"

Sydney was eager to reassure him. "Oh, absolutely. Your friend and Justin seem to be really close, and he's always been monogamous." She sighed. "Never lasts long, though."

"Why's that?"

She shrugged. "How should I know? I just know he's always dumping them. Except for Violet. But he just gets tired of them. Your friend Janine has more staying power, I'll give her that; usually they're gone after a month." Sydney looked uncomfortable. "Look, I hope you're not going to mention any of this to Janine."

"No problem. And thanks for your time, Sydney." He moved a little closer, looking deep into her eyes. "Are you busy Saturday night?"

"I'm married. Usually that means I'm busy every night."

Peter pouted charmingly. "Just my luck. Thanks anyway for showing me around."

Sydney sighed as he walked off. "How come all the interesting men in New York came out of the woodwork after I got married?"

Peter stopped at the information booth on the way out. "Excuse me, is the Violet Fleming who posed for one of the Tremaine statues the same one who was on ONE LIFE TO LIVE?"

The guide looked it up in the catalog. "Sorry, no, it says here that she works for Random House as an editor."

"My mistake."

Three phone calls and only a few lies later, Peter was on the subway to Kew Gardens to meet with Violet Fleming. Any girl who had the good sense and taste to dump Justin Tremaine was someone he wanted to meet.

Violet Fleming's building was a security building. Apartment 15A. Peter stared at the buttons next to the names, trying to figure out what to say to her. I want to ask you about your ex, Count Dracula? Nah. Excuse me, have your ever been the victim of mind control? Too blunt.

He let out a breath. What the hell, Venkman, when in doubt go with the truth. He buzzed her number.

"Yes?" A scared female voice answered.

"Violet Fleming?"

"Yes. Who are you?"

"My name's Peter Venkman, I'm one of the Ghostbusters. I want to ask you about someone you knew that a friend of mine is dating." Pause. Peter could hear Violet breathing. "I'm worried about her." He plunged in. "It's about Justin Tremaine."

She cut the connection. Damn it, I knew I should have lied, said I was selling encyclopedias, anything! Why...

The buzzer for the door cut into his thoughts. "Come on up," said Violet through the intercom.

When he knocked on the door she opened it with the chain across, the space barely half an inch. "You're not a friend of Justin's?" she asked suspiciously.

"Hardly. Are you?" Peter replied.

"Not any more. Hold on a sec." She closed the door and undid the chain, then opened it. Violet Fleming was a tiny blonde with masses of honey-gold hair and grey eyes set in a heart-shape face. She was wearing jeans and a Tee-shirt and looked apprehensive and awkward. Peter smiled his best reassuring smile, taking a PKE meter out of his jacket pocket. He did a quick sweep of her and her apartment and got nothing. If she had been the victim of a vampire, it was in the past now.

"What did you want to know?" she asked, perching herself in a window seat without looking at him, ignoring his examination of her apartment and herself.

Peter watched her. She seemed scared and upset. "Why don't you tell me about why you dumped him?"

She shrugged, still not looking at him. "He was too possessive. Everything had to be his way. BeSydes, I thought we were getting a little too intense." She stopped abruptly. "You may not believe this, but I never wanted to see him again after Halloween. He was scaring me. All that stuff about darkness and desire... creepy."

"Why wouldn't I believe you?"

Violet ducked her head, picking a bit of fluff off her jeans. "No one does. I can't blame them. Not after the scenes I made."

"Ms. Fleming, I don't know what you're talking about, but I think my friend is going through the same thing. Does this sound familiar: nightmares, voices in your head, feeling sick all the time..." Peter stopped because Violet was staring at him finally, her eyes full of tears.

"How did you know?" she asked in a choked voice.

Peter rubbed his temples. That rat. He sure didn't change his M.O. "The friend I mentioned, she's going through the same thing. Could you maybe tell me exactly how it was for you?" Violet was shaking, her whole body trembling. "Look, I'm a psychologist and a parapsychologist, I've heard everything and I do mean everything. And, Violet," he said, sitting across from her in the window seat, "I'll believe you. Please help me, I don't want Janine to be hurt."

"It sounds crazy," she whispered. She took a deep breath. "But so what? Maybe you can tell me what's wrong with me."

Peter listened, growing more and more furious with Justin Tremaine as Violet described what had happened after she and Justin broke up. "At first I thought everything was okay, I mean, Justin was really understanding about why I didn't want to see him anymore. But about a week afterward I started having these nightmares. I would be lost and alone in a wood or in a storm, and I would run to him, and then he would disappear. Every night, the same thing---he would be the only person in the middle of a hurricane or something else awful, and then he would disappear. About a week after that, the... thoughts started. I would be somewhere, anywhere, work, the store, and I would hear this voice in my head. My voice. It would say 'Find Justin.'"

She stole a glance at Peter; he was watching her intently. "'Find Justin. You need Justin. You'll never be safe without Justin. You love Justin.' I'd have these arguments in my head, trying to convince one part of my brain that I didn't love him anymore or need him, but I usually lost. It only stopped when I was near him, talking to him." Her voice dropped to a whisper: "Touching him." She was crying now. "I didn't want him, I didn't love him, but I couldn't stay away. I'd get drunk, and I'd still hear the voices..." She sobbed, her head on her knees. "It stopped around New Year's Eve, but I'm still so scared that it'll start again."

When he met Janine, Peter thought, his stomach sinking. He stroked her hair. "Did you tell anyone else about this?"

"Who could I tell? It's insane. I only told you because you already knew." Violet got her breath, and looked up at him. "Your friend... this is happening to her? What happened to us?"

Peter spoke slowly. He didn't have any proof to offer that Justin Tremaine was a vampire, and anything he said in that direction would only upset her more. The important thing was to convince her she wasn't crazy. "The PKE meter didn't show anything; I'd say given the lack of paranormal activity, he hypnotized both of you somehow."

"Hypnotized... oooohh," Violet whispered. "Maybe he did. Maybe he did. He would do this thing, I mean when were, um... uh... kissing, and I would almost black out, and when I felt better, it would be a lot later."

"After he bit you on the neck?" Peter asked. In response to her stunned look, he said, "Yeah, she's got major hickeys too. He might have drugged you, your drink or something else, to make you suggestible, and then used the bite as a trigger to start a trance. Hypnotic triggers don't have to be vocal." He smiled at her. "You're not crazy, Violet. But I think you ought to see a therapist about this, get those post-hypnotic suggestions taken care of. You wouldn't want that bastard in your head any longer than necessary."

"I can't believe he'd do this to me," Violet said softly. "I mean, I know it has to be him, there's no other explanation, I didn't want him, but why? We broke up. People break up everyday. To do this to someone you said you loved..."

Peter felt weary. "I'd say he doesn't take rejection too well. Tell me, was there anything, anything at all that he was scared of or that he seemed wary of? I need something on this guy."

"No," said Violet. "He was never scared of anything. Justin was one of the most fearless people I ever knew."

And the scariest, Peter thought.

Egon finished cooking dinner, Yugoslavian goulash. He'd had little to do that day---after talking to the Count he'd designed the ultraviolet lanterns they would need if they had to go after Tremaine. Ray had been building them all afternoon; aSyde from the fact that they had an extra-long battery supply and were sturdier than average, they were little different from anything that could be picked up in the average hardware store. After talking to the Count and working up the designs, Egon had entirely too much time on his hands. A call from Janine at 9 AM didn't help his state of mind.

"I'm perfectly fine, Egon. I'm taking today off. I need to think about some things before I come back to work."

"Take all the time you need, Janine, we just want to know---"

"That I'm okay?" Janine interrupted. She laughed somewhat bitterly. "I'm fine; I'm not a vampire; and no, I haven't seen Justin since yesterday."

"Janine---"

"Let me finish, Egon. I'm not going to see him until Friday night, when he comes by for our date. If anyone mentions vampire bites to him, I'll walk. Permanently. End of discussion. Tell Ray I'm all right and not to call anymore. We'll talk tomorrow." She hung up.

Egon had stared at the dead phone, and then slammed it down in frustration. He still felt that way now, like he wanted to bang the dishes around and rattle the silverware. He'd been feeling useless and guilty all day, turning over in his mind the early-morning conversation he had had with the Count.

According to Count Vostok, in order for a new vampire to be created an exchange of blood between vampire and the initiate was required. The initiate would then 'die', going into physical shock that mimicked death, but awaken to feed the next night. "You comprehend," the Count had said, his voice crackling across the satellite links, "that full cooperation from the one being transformed is required. If the person is forced to drink a vampire's blood or does not truly wish to become a vampire, no transformation will occur. Most become mindless zombies."

Egon had swallowed. "And the others?"

"Die," said the Count succinctly. "Do not misunderstand me: new vampires are created very rarely. With the addition of the new technology to our lives, it is no longer necessary for us to drink the blood of living humans. If, as you suspect, your friend Janine is the victim of a vampire, then he is either very foolish and arrogant to be drinking from a mortal when a donor blood supply is available; or he is trying to gain a mental hold over her by making her an initiate, and influence her into choosing vampirism."

"Can he do that? Choose for her, turn her into a vampire against her will?" Egon had asked.

"No, but he can cloud her judgement to the point where it is almost the same thing if she is weak-willed. But the choice is always hers; if she changes her mind at any time, it will not work." Vostok had sighed. "It saddens me that one of my brethren is doing this to a friend of yours; most of us prefer willing participants, but if what you tell me is true and he had kept her in the dark this long, then it is likely the he is someone whom you should be very, very careful of, my friend."

Ever since that conversation Egon had been examining the possibility that Janine might become a vampire with a kind of detached horror. On the one hand, Janine was a very self-willed person; any choices she made would ultimately be her own. But on the other hand, Egon had to wonder about her motivations: she was clearly infatuated with Tremaine, angry at the guys, and especially furious with Egon. He couldn't believe that she would willingly choose to become a vampire, but then he was finding it hard to believe that she hadn't accepted their warnings yesterday, either.

Ray came in just as Egon was realizing he had almost burnt the goulash while wrestling with the thought of Janine as a vampire. "They're finished, all of them. The tracker too." Ray sniffed the stew warily. "What's that?"

"Yugoslavian goulash. I got the recipe from the Count."

Ray nodded cautiously. "Ookaay. The tracker looks like one of Janine's lipsticks; all we have to do is slip it into her purse when she's not looking. We'll have to triangulate the location, but as long as it's transmitting we should be able to find them. It's got a range of 25 miles and I boosted the output to accommodate being inSyde buildings and so on." Ray carefully tasted the goulash and smiled in relief when it seemed normal. "We should probably follow them anyway, it'll save us some time and be a surer way of finding Janine if she needs our help."

The downstairs door slammed. "Guys?" called Winston's voice.

"We're in the kitchen, Winston," called back Egon.

Winston entered the kitchen wearily and collapsed into a chair. "No luck."

"Nothing at all?" Ray asked in surprise.

"Well, he's a registered taxpayer and a licensed driver, but other than that..." Winston rubbed his neck and stretched his legs. "I did enough legwork that I ought to have something more, but the clerk at Records absolutely refused to give me his address. Said it would probably cost her her job. The most she would tell me is that he's got a P.O. box in Manhattan." Winston put his head in his hands. "Unlisted phone number, no name on any ownership papers on condos or reSydences in Manhattan, he's never gotten a traffic ticket--this man likes his privacy. Man, I feel helpless. How are we supposed to stop this guy if we can't find him?"

"The tracker I made should help us out there," Ray said comfortingly. "BeSydes, I still think we ought to follow them." "That's a possibility, Ray, but somehow, given Janine's state of mind and Ecto's noticeability, I don't think it will work," Egon responded. "If she catches us following them, she'll quit, go straight to him, and then we'll have to forget any chance we might have had of catching Tremaine."

The door slammed again and they could hear Peter's footsteps on the stairs. A moment later he was in the doorway, looking tired. He loosened his tie. "What's to eat?" he asked.

"Don't ask. It tastes okay, but you probably don't want to know why," said Ray.

Egon raised a sardonic eyebrow at Ray before turning to Peter. "Did you find out anything?"

Peter nodded grimly. "It's as bad as we thought." He detailed his trip to the gallery and to Kew Gardens, during which the other Ghostbusters became as furious as he had been when Violet first told him. Ray looked sick, Winston stone-cold furious, and Egon thoughtful. Peter finished: "I think he can only mess with their minds after he's bitten them. So Janine is in a lot of trouble since he bit her twice already. If she went straight to him yesterday..."

"She didn't," Egon said. He, Ray and Winston took turns filling Peter in on what had been going on that day. At the end of it, Peter sat down in one of the chairs and tilted his head back, closing his eyes.

"Janine's really picked a winner this time," he said.

"No comments like that tomorrow, Peter. We'll have some chance, I think, to change her mind, but not much. She was extremely definite about quitting if we gave her a bad time again. Our only chance to save this situation is to trust her, but not him."

"Agreed," said Ray. "We ought to give him a chance to explain what's been happening. We can't just blast him with ultraviolet light the second he shows up."

"Why can't we?" asked Peter, tilting his head forward. At the exasperated stares of the other Ghostbusters, he continued, "No, really, why not?"

"Way too messy, Peter," Winston said drily. "Plus, the complicated explanations to the police on how he disappeared. Plus..." he sighed. "Janine would never forgive us if we killed her boyfriend on sight. Even if it did prove he was a vampire."

Friday morning came, bringing back Janine bright and early at 8:00 AM. The look she gave the Ghostbusters upon arriving was unequivocal, as was the speech she made ten seconds later.

"Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it. Tonight, I am going to ask Justin if he is a vampire. Depending on his answer, I may or may not break up with him. Whether he is a vampire or not, this is my private concern, and while I appreciate how worried you all are it is not something I want you involved in. Anyone who even tries to talk to me about this is going to get a mouthful of fist in two seconds flat. Got it?"

"Got it," Peter said, as the others nodded. They hadn't really expected anything else.

Throughout the day the tension level rose and rose as closing time came closer. Two routine jobs were almost shot because Egon and Ray couldn't concentrate. Peter felt like locking Janine up in the containment unit until after Justin Tremaine had come and gone, but he knew it was pointless. Egon and Winston had been right the night before; they couldn't just kill him. If they did that, not only would they be in a lot of trouble but Janine would quit and probably never speak to them again. They had to make her see what a slime the guy was. So far, no one had come up with any idea how to do that. All of their precautions for Janine's safety would be useless if Tremaine convinced her that he wasn't dangerous. But no one could figure out how to make him show his true character while Janine was watching.

Finally, it was sundown.

"Uh, Janine, can you help me with this?" asked Winston, balancing five traps at once and looking like he was about to drop all of them.

Janine looked up, annoyed. "Winston, Justin's going to be here any minute."

"This'll only take a second, c'mon, I can't find anyone else."

Janine looked around. At least Peter and Ray and Egon weren't around; they couldn't possibly intercept Justin if he showed up before she came back to her desk.

Ray slid down the pole from upstairs the second Janine was out of sight. Peter came out from under his desk. Egon came down the stairs, holding a PKE meter. Ray walked purposefully over to Janine's desk, opened her purse and dropped the tracker in, then resealed the purse. "Tracker set," he said.

"So where's His Royal Bloodiness?" asked Peter.

"Try to be subtle, Peter. No cheap shots. Remember, the whole purpose of this interview is to determine his intentions so it would be better if we didn't prejudice him against us straight off," said Egon.

The door to the street opened. Justin Tremaine stood framed in the light from the street lamps for a second, then closed it behind him. He studied the assembled Ghostbusters coldly, then stalked forward, stopping in front of Janine's desk. Peter was leaning casually against the filing cabinet. Ray leaned back against the staircase, and Egon stood in front of the firepole.

"Dr. Venkman. What a surprise. I might have known you would be here to greet me after that little show you put on for Sydney yesterday. Or do you prefer to be called 'Mr. Peck'?" asked Justin.

"I prefer to be called Your Excellency, but hey, I'll take what I can get," answered Peter. "So, ol' Syd told you I stopped by, checked out your stuff, huh? Should have asked her not to mention that."

"I didn't recognize the name, but who other than Janine's former love would quiz my agent on my former lovers, current attachments, and dating history?" Justin replied, nodding to him.

"Well, I'm not her former love, but it was me yesterday. I'm not her current love either, if that's what you're thinking. That's the blond guy over there," said Peter, smiling angelically and pointing at Egon.

Justin whirled around, toe to toe with Egon. Each studied the other intently, giving the momentary impression of two cats circling each other, then Egon spoke: "Despite the fact that I was never romantically attracted to Janine, I do care about her a great deal as a friend. She did use to have a crush on me, but now that seems to have been transferred to you."

Justin almost snarled, then caught his breath and smiled coldly. "My feelings for Janine and hers for me go deeper than a crush. And whatever her feelings were for you in the past, they are now irrelevant."

Ray spoke up. "That's what we're worried about. Janine hasn't been herself since she started going out with you and what we want to know is, do you really care about Janine or are you just using her and hurting her?"

Justin looked at Ray contemptuously. "That is no business of yours."

"It is our business." Peter was no longer smiling. "Janine is our friend, and we have reason to worry about her. You're not good for her."

Egon took out the PKE meter. "For instance, we'd like to know why you are completely failing to register on the PKE meter as animal, mineral, or vegetable."

Ray broke in. "So, are you psychic and shielding? Or are you a vampire? And what are you doing to Janine?"

"Subtle, Ray, really subtle," Peter said in disgust. Justin was enraged. He stared at the PKE meter a moment, then batted it away effortlessly. It spun across the room and shattered against a wall.

He took a breath. "So, you figured it out." He smiled. His teeth looked very sharp and very white against the rest of his face. "I thought you might have, when Janine called me on Wednesday. She seemed very distressed. Did you try to tell her your asinine theories or did you simply ask her about the bitemarks on her neck?"

Ray swallowed. "We asked her about the dreams, and why she was sick so often lately. She had all the classic symptoms. Are you trying to turn her into a vampire?"

Justin looked at Ray condescendingly, then walked over and patted him on the head. "Don't worry about it. It is, after all, between Janine and me."

"I wouldn't count on that if I were you," Peter said, as he and Egon walked over to stand next to Ray. All of them were wearing grim expressions. "We'll do anything we need to stop you from hurting her."

Justin grinned. "Ah, but would she thank you? She is still with me, even after you tried to convince her I was a vampire. She is going out with me tonight, wherever I choose. And if I asked her to lay down her life for me this very evening she would do it."

Egon had been growing more and more furious. "Janine has more sense than that. She'll see through you very soon and she'll dump you like Violet Fleming did. No matter what else, Janine knows her own mind."

Justin's grinned turned into a sensual smile. "I'm counting on that. I can give her eternal life, eternal youth, and sensual pleasures that you can't even imagine. Really, she is an incredibly passionate woman. Her response to my blooddrinking was truly enthusiastic. I look forward to bringing her to full awareness of the carnal pleasures of vampirism."

Egon went for his throat, yelling "You scum!!" Peter and Ray were trying to restrain him when Justin picked him up by the front of his jumpsuit, held him over his head, smiled, and then coolly tossed Egon across the room to crash against the filing cabinet. Peter and Ray ran to help Egon, who shakily rose from the floor holding his head. Justin folded his arms over his chest and menacingly looked at the three Ghostbusters. "Don't try to stop me from initiating Janine, gentlemen. You might live to regret it."

"Regret what?" Janine came up the stairs. "You haven't been giving him a hard time, have you, guys?" she asked looking at them meaningfully. Peter and Ray stared back in despair, looking from her to Tremaine. Winston looked a question at them from behind Janine while Egon groggily adjusted his glasses. Peter shook his head finally, deciding that to tell Janine what they just heard would accomplish nothing. He cleared his throat. "No, of course not, Janine. We had a deal, right?"

"Right." Janine grabbed her purse, her coat, and Justin's arm. "Later, guys."

"Much later," Justin said, his arm possessively around Janine, "when things have changed." The guys watched in fear for Janine as she walked off into the night on his arm.

Justin unlocked his apartment door, turned on the lights, and ushered Janine in. She immediately dumped her purse and coat on the couch, not looking at Justin. "Do you think we lost them?" she asked.

"Positive," he replied. "I took all the cabs outSyde the restaurant, and that should have thrown them off."

They had noticed Ecto-1 outSyde the restaurant when they were leaving and Janine had been furious. "They promised," she had kept repeating, too angry to think of anything else. Justin had remained cool and collected, sending the guys on a wild goose chase after six different cabs by paying each taxi driver twenty bucks to take off in a different direction. The porte-cochere had hidden them directly from view, so the guys didn't know which cab Janine and Justin had taken. "Saw it in a movie once," he had said, laughing at his own ingenuity.

Now he moved to put his arms around Janine, but she moved away from him, rubbing her arms to get warmer. She turned around at the window, her back to the wall. "We gotta talk," she said, her expression serious.

He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. "So? Talk."

Janine pulled the curtain across the window in back of the ebony statue. Justin tensed, too late to stop her. The room--fireplace, bar, couch, front door, statues--was reflected in it. So was Janine, facing out to the view.

Justin was nowhere to be seen.

She turned around. He was only two feet away from her, close enough to touch. "Is there something you want to tell me, Justin?"

He looked tired, sad. "You already know."

"Yeah, guess I do." Janine took a breath, meeting his eyes squarely. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Moving away from her, pacing slowly around the room, not looking at her, Justin started to speak. "What was I supposed to say? When was I supposed to say it? That first night in the gallery? After I bit you? You didn't ask then. How was I supposed to break it to you without your leaving me?"

Shaking her head in confusion, Janine put a hand to her forehead. "Wait a minute. You were scared I'd leave if you told me? Weren't you scared I would find out some other way, like I did?"

"Not many others did, Janine." Justin let out a breath in a half-laugh. He finally turned to her, half the room between them. He started talking very fast, as if it was a relief to get the words out. "I've been a vampire almost 200 years, Janine. Since the War of 1812. I didn't lie to you about growing up in Massachusetts, I really did. But Massachusetts was a lot bigger back then. The town where I was born would be part of New York State if it still existed. It went bust in the thirties, though." He moved over to the window, staring out sightlessly over the view. The lack of reflection was disconcerting to Janine, though he seemed to be oblivious to it. "I've wanted to tell you, I really did. But... you remember Violet?" Janine nodded. "We broke up because she was scared of me," he said bitterly.

"You told her?" Janine asked, surprised.

"No. I wanted to, though. She was beginning to suspect. I cared about her, Janine. But I was just too strange for her. So I didn't want you to do the same thing. Leave me, because of something I can't help." He looked at her again, pleading. "I didn't lie to you. You just never asked the right questions. You didn't question things, like how I disappeared that first morning... I changed into a mist. You didn't ask about the bites. You didn't really want to know, Janine." Janine looked back at him, not sure what to say or how to say it. He looked away, back to the sculpture of Lia. "I became a vampire for a lot of different reasons. Love. Want. Curiosity, if you can believe it. And it hasn't been a bad deal. I've seen more things than any mortal man will. I'm never sick. But sometimes..." he breathed out the words, "...sometimes it can be lonely."

Janine moved forward impulsively. "Hey, I understand."

He looked up. His eyes were so blue, so deep... "You do?"

Janine smiled, putting her hands on his shoulders. "How can I not understand your being scared? I get scared of losing people, too. And you've got more reason than most to be scared. If anyone knew, you'd be in a lot of danger. Hey, I'm secretary to the Ghostbusters. I've seen a lot weirder things than this."

"The Ghostbusters," Justin repeated, his expression thoughtful and a little weary. "They're afraid for you, you know. They'd happily put a stake through my heart."

"They would not," Janine said firmly. "Because I wouldn't let them. Look, after I explain it to them they'll understand. They've met other vampires and some of them were pretty decent people. Why shouldn't they like you? They just," she said in disgust, "don't know when to butt out and let people deal with their own lives. Once they know you're not a threat to me, they'll back off."

Justin finally smiled at her, hesitantly. "I'm glad you know. There was so much I couldn't share with you, because I would have had to lie." He took her hands in both of his and kissed them. It will be so easy now. I have her sympathy, and her desire. After that, the next step is easy.

"Would you ever..." he broke off, stopped. He dropped her hands and said in a different tone, "I finished the statue. Come over here, it's right---"

"Would I ever what?" asked Janine curiously.

"Nothing. Look, isn't it great?" Justin took a gold cloth cover off of the statue of Janine. It was great. Delicate, pale and mysterious, Janine was fighting the wind inSyde a cloak, looking like carved ice.

Janine couldn't speak, she was so touched. He hadn't let her see it before. "It's beautiful," she whispered. She cleared her throat, and then looked back at him. He was watching her penetratingly, studying her face. "What were you going to ask me, a second ago?" she asked, meeting his gaze.

He looked like he was going to dismiss the subject again, try to pass it off lightly. He opened his mouth, closed it. Then he raised his chin, dropped his hands from the statue. "I was going to ask if you would ever conSyder joining me," he said self-mockingly.

Janine stared at him stupidly. "Join you?" she repeated.

"As a vampire." Justin moved to her, taking her upper arms in his hands, scrutinizing her reaction. "Think about it, Janine. Immortality. Eternal youth. Strength. Power. We're invulnerable, except for sunlight. It's a small price to pay. And," he paused, then kissed her on the mouth. When he pulled back, Janine's breathing was labored. "Me."

"You," Janine whispered. She looked up at him, trying to catch her breath. "Justin, I don't know about this... I'm sorta surprised..."

"Why? We know how we feel about each other. There is no greater high in the world than being a vampire. The sensuality of it, living forever, taking all that life has to offer because you never have to die. We could be together," he emphasized, his hands on both Sydes of her face. Then, barely audible, "I love you, Janine. Please, don't let me be alone again."

"You love me?" Janine asked, starting to smile, her eyes glowing.

"Would I say it if it wasn't true?" He kissed her forehead, then looked into her eyes. "Well?" he whispered.

Janine took a breath, let it out. She stared at the collar of his shirt, trying to think. Then she raised her eyes to his face. "Okay," she said clearly. "Okay. I'll join you. I'll become a vampire."

"I knew we should have taken a cab," Peter said crossly.

The slimeball had spotted them as soon as he and Janine had left the restaurant after their late dinner, and had then proceeded to pull a trick out of the movies by paying off six cabs to go off in different directions. Egon still wasn't sure how he had spotted them. Maybe the vampire could sense they were around?

"What were we supposed to do, Peter, hijack that taxi?" Egon asked tiredly. They had left the spud to man the phones in case Janine or someone else called, Slimer nearly fretting himself into a froth with worry about Janine. "Find her, guys," he had pleaded. Egon rubbed his eyes wearily. He kept having horrible ideas of what was happening to Janine. Please, he silently asked no one in particular, please let us be in time.

"I still think he only went off duty when he saw we were Ghostbusters. 'Not in my cab.' What a creep. We should have hit him with a brick," Peter complained from the back seat.

"Keep your eyes on the scanner, Peter," Egon responded.

Ray got to a dead end. "Which way?" he asked, thrumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

"Left," said Winston, taking a look at the tracker.

"They're only five miles away now," Peter added, adjusting the pickup on the scanner.

"There's still a lot of apartments in that five miles," said Winston. He took a breath and said, "Drive faster, Ray." He looked at the ceiling. "I don't believe I said that."

Egon said nothing, merely looking out the window and noticing the gathering storm clouds, annoyed that the weather was imitating his mood. The annoyance kept him from remembering how scared he was. For Janine. For all of them.

Janine stood by the window, wearing the robe in which she had posed for the figurine and nothing else. She fingered the robe nervously, trying to think. Everything was happening so fast...

Justin had been ecstatic when she accepted his offer. "This will be a very, very special night, my love," he had said. "This ceremony will bring us closer together than any two mortals will ever be. Change into the robe, while I make the preparations." Preparations? Janine had thought. No, wait, I'm scared... But as soon as she thought that, a sense of calm filled her making her feel peaceful and unafraid. Now she was just curious and concerned. Fear seemed very far away.

Justin returned to the room. Wearing a black silk robe, the twin of hers. It was knotted around the waist, his chest bare. Janine started cheering up. This was an adventure. She and Justin would be in it together. Nothing was wrong. So why was she finding it so hard to take a breath?

She dismissed that thought and walked into Justin's bedroom with him, his arm across her shoulders. He turned on the lights.

The bedroom was windowless, with no mirrors. Well, of course not, Janine thought, disgusted with herself. If he slept there during the day, he wouldn't want any light at all. Part of her was surprised there was no coffin. An enormous bed with a red-and-black satin comforter across it dominated the room. There were prints on the walls and a closet, but everything was secondary to the bed. The design on the comforter was that of a teardrop. Or a drop of blood...

Justin studied her face. "Like it?" he asked.

"It's great," she replied. Justin shut the door behind them. The only light came from a single stained glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling. He dimmed the lights, then walked over to the closet and opened it. Reaching in, he withdrew a very old-looking wooden box the size of a shoebox, but ornately carved. Taking her arm, Justin led her over to the bed.

When opened, the box contained a chalice done in silver, very simple but very beautiful, with no ornamentation. The box also held a knife the size of a stiletto. Janine gulped when she saw it.

Justin must have seen her discomfort, because he stroked her hair. "It's all right, Janine, this won't hurt very much. I'll be careful not to leave a scar. But we need to mix your blood with mine so that you can be transformed." Janine nodded bravely. After all, she wasn't scared. Just a little nervous. Justin drew the knife across her wrist, where the natural fold of her skin was, so that once it was healed it would be unnoticeable. Blood welled up and he held her wrist over the cup. The drops fell into the chalice and when they could no longer see the bottom of the cup, Justin bound up her wrist, then slit his own. His blood was darker, more viscous, so it took a little longer for the cup to be filled with an equal amount of his blood. Janine watched, fascinated.

He bound up his wrist, then put away the knife and the box. Bringing the chalice back over to Janine, he placed it in her hands. "This is going to be scary once it starts. You'll feel like you're going to die. You're not, if you concentrate all of your thoughts on me and only me. I'll keep you safe. When sunrise comes, you'll sleep. When the sun sets tomorrow night you will awake to feed. I'll be here to take care of you." He smiled. And the first one I shall feed to you is Egon Spengler. Right after I dine on Peter Venkman's liver. Oh, my love, you will enjoy it so much!

Janine tried to breath normally, but couldn't. There was something different about Justin. Darker, hungrier. Was she going to be like that? Darker, harder, because of what she had become?

Justin closed her hands around the cup, his hands over hers. "Of all the women I have loved, you are the first I have chosen to transform. You will be my love until the end of time, the one with whom I shall spend eternity. Drink to your new life, my love. Drink to the new world you are about to enter, the world of night."

But what about Violet? Janine thought suddenly. You were going to tell her, weren't you? Would you have made her a vampire, if she'd asked?

Justin released her hands, watching her. She lifted the cup to her lips.

Suddenly, as if there had been curtains on her mind that drew apart at last, she vividly saw and heard several things:

Egon saying Justin had messed with her mind;

Peter's face, as he said she looked like hell after her second bite from Justin;

Ray's voice on her answering machine, the worry and concern as he pleaded with her to pick up the phone;

Winston trying to be kind, trying to break it to her easily as he told her that Justin was probably a vampire;

Then she saw sunlight in her imagination, and realized that today was the last time she'd ever see it. The faces of her family, who would never understand what had changed her. The faces of the guys when she told them what she'd chosen. Children she would never have now, things she would never do except at night.

Then she thought of drinking blood, and outliving everyone she knew. Of having to omit huge amounts of personal history when talking to strangers for fear they would figure it out. Of always being asleep when others had lives outSyde, in the world.

She looked at Justin and very clearly, clearer than everything else, she realized: I don't love him. I like him. I care about him. I feel more for him than I do for most people. But I don't love him. Not enough to give up everything else.

She put the cup down.

"Justin, I'm so sorry." She couldn't look at him, couldn't face what she knew would be in his eyes: disappointment, and betrayal.

"Janine, what is it? You're not scared, I hope. I'm right here." He took her hands in his, the familiar gesture touching Janine even more when she thought of what she had to say.

"I can't do it. Justin, I don't love you." She looked up.

His pupils were contracted in shock, his face frozen in a mask of surprise. "Don't... what?" he gasped.

"I don't love you. I care about you, I really do, but I can't do this. There's so much more I want to do with my life and I need to be human to do it. Maybe you can't understand that, but it's true. I want to get married someday, have children... I want to have a career, and how can I work if I can only be awake at night? I'm not an artist like you. I need sunlight, Justin, the way you need the night." She stopped. "I'm sorry."

Justin was in control again, his face expressionless. He wouldn't let go of her hands, just studied her face carefully. Detached, cold. She means it. NO. She can not do this to me. "You can't do this," he said aloud. "You know too much about me."

Janine misunderstood, and was immediately reassuring. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. I wouldn't do that to you. I don't want anyone to hurt you."

Justin shook his head in sorrow, regret on his face. "You don't understand. I can't let you leave me, knowing what you do. You don't get to choose not to be one of us, not anymore, Janine."

She looked back at him, trying to free her hands. "Justin?" She took a little breath. "What are you saying, I can't leave, of course..." She trailed off. He had opened his mouth, the long, sharp incisors very much in evidence. "Justin?" she whispered, feeling all of the terror that he had taken out of her mind earlier, knowing what he had done to her, knowing...

Justin looked sad. "You do understand now, don't you, my love? I had to make you see things my way. But I had to let you choose. If you hadn't chosen, I couldn't make you a vampire. So I had to give you your mind back completely, totally, when it came time for you to drink. I do love you," he said, his eyes glowing, his hands tangled in her hair. He was so strong, Janine couldn't break free, she could hardly struggle. She started to kick him, to scream.

"No one can hear you," he said, looking nothing like her friend, her Justin, anymore, just a monster come to hurt her. "Don't fight it, Janine, you'll only make it worse."

She screamed at the top of her lungs, but her strength was pitiful next to his, and then his mouth was at her neck, biting, biting, sucking... She tried to scream again, felt the curtains closing in her mind, a warm sweet darkness engulfing her. She fought it, fought it as much as she could, but she was so tired, and even though she knew she was going to die, she didn't stop struggling until she couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't feel anything. Then she fell into the darkness, still screaming in her mind.

"There!" Winston shouted, pointing to the chrome-and-glass building on the corner. Ray skidded Ecto to a stop, halfway out of the car before he stopped the engine. Peter reached behind the seat, grabbed his lamp, passed one to Ray as Egon took another one and fastened it to his belt. Winston held the tracker in front of them as they ran into the building.

"It'll be simpler if we take readings from the elevator, so we can zero in on the floor they're on," Egon said, punching the button for the elevator.

"How many floors does this place have, anyway?" Ray asked, adjusting his lamp.

"Twenty," Peter said in a tired voice, once the elevator arrived and he ducked inSyde. "Oh, well. Going up, guys?"

They all got in, Winston asking, "What if she's fine? She'll kill us."

"Wishful thinking, Winston," Egon said bleakly. Just let it not be too late...

Justin stalked back into his apartment, scanning the room to see if there was anything he had forgotten. Nothing. He walked over to the statue of Janine, feeling tired and depressed. It shouldn't have been necessary. If I had had more time with her, if she'd been given more time to love me, if those creeps hadn't figured it out.... if. He studied the statue. Janine looked so fragile, so pale. Just as she'd looked when he dumped her body not fifteen minutes before. He'd drunk so deeply from her that her pulse was almost nonexistent when he'd stopped. It had been so sweet to drink from her again. Perhaps the theories about the dying blood of someone you loved were true. Perhaps it was the sweetest, the strongest.

He'd wrapped her in her coat, half-panic stricken at what he'd done, half enraged that it had been necessary. She'd looked peaceful, asleep, except for the gaping wound at her throat. He'd put her glasses back on her and dropped the rest of her clothes in the incinerator chute when he went down the firestairs. Nothing remained of Janine in his apartment. Except for the statue.

I know who is to blame, my love, he thought at the statue. I know who forced us into this, and I know who has to pay. Sleep sweetly, Janine. I'll get them for this.

He walked over to the window, and stared out for some time. Suddenly, there was an adamant knock at the door. "Tremaine!! Open up!! It's the Ghostbusters!!"

Justin whirled around, shocked to the core. How the hell had they found him? How did they know where he lived? Janine wouldn't have told them... He kept silent.

"We know you've got Janine in there!! We gotta talk to her!! Open the door or we'll break it down!!" called Egon's voice.

"I'm calling the police!" Justin yelled back. He reached for the phone as the door was kicked in by Egon and Winston. The Ghostbusters swarmed into his apartment, strange-looking lanterns held before them.

Justin tried to look amused. "What do you think you're doing? And what are those ridiculous flashlights for?"

"They're ultra-violet lights, scumbag. Where's Janine?" rapped out Peter, moving close to Justin, standing just out of reach

Justin went white, then got a grip on himself. "I don't know what you're talking about. Janine left not fifteen minutes ago. And how did you find me, anyway?"

"We had a tracker in her purse," said Ray, reaching behind the sofa, and coming up with Janine's bag. "Uh-oh. Guys, her purse is here, but where is she? She wouldn't have forgotten her stuff."

Peter was momentarily distracted, turning back to Ray, his expression growing grimmer. In that moment Justin made his move. Quicker than thought, he grabbed Peter's neck and an arm, twisting it cruelly behind his back. "Back off," Justin snarled."You have no idea how much I want to kill him." Peter gasped in pain, trying to break free, but the vampire was much stronger than he was.

Egon didn't change expression, but powered up his lantern, saying, "Hurt him and you're toast. What did you do with Janine?"

Justin laughed, his eyes glowing maniacally. "You wouldn't dare. I could snap his neck in a second. And it's your own fault Janine's not here."

"What do you mean?" asked Ray in trepidation, dropping her purse, and turning on his lantern like Egon and Winston had, not pointing it to where Justin and Peter stood locked in struggle. Peter's face was going red from exertion and pain, but he still couldn't break free.

"I mean that because you made her doubt me, because you made her scared, I had to kill her."

"No," Egon said before he could stop himself.

"Where is she? We don't believe you," Winston said at the same time.

Justin laughed again, painfully. "I really, really liked her. I was going to make her one of us. But she chose mortality instead. Your fault. This is your fault. I dumped her body in Central Park. No one will ever know except us, and you will be---"

While he was talking, Peter managed to finally reach the lantern at his belt and switch it on, swinging it around toward Justin, who screamed in agony and let go of Peter, stumbling back, his body smoking, one of his hands covered in third-degree burns. Peter fell to the floor, trying to catch his breath.

Justin looked around wildly, then leaped for the window. "You'll never get me! And I will come back for you!" As the glass crashed into shards, Ray turned his lantern toward him faster than Justin could fall to the street.

A high pitched scream spiraled into the ultrasonic range as Justin's body burst into flames. The guys ran to the window as Peter staggered to his feet.

Nothing. Nothing except charred bits of cloth floating downward to the street.

Ray took a breath, closed his eyes as Winston clapped him on the shoulder. "Nice shot, Ray," he said quietly.

Egon bent down and picked up the two statues that Tremaine had knocked over in his jump through the window. One was an ebony goddess. The other...

"Janine," he whispered, looking at the statue.

Peter looked up from the window, over to Egon. "We'll find her, Egon. Central Park. He didn't have enough time to get very far..." Egon nodded mechanically, then carefully put the statue on the pedestal. "Let's move it," he said. "There might still be time." But the prayer he had been repeating all night seemed to be nothing more than an expression of despair.

It was so cold. Janine came out of the darkness into shadow, shivering. So very, very cold. There were leaves overhead, grass beneath her. She didn't have the energy to wonder why. She couldn't remember. She was so weak. She couldn't remember anything, except a song. How did it go?

Tease me... and hurt me..... deceive me.... desert me... I'm yours, 'til I die.... so in love.... so in love...

Janine closed her eyes. The dark was nice, except for that voice, singing, singing....

Somebody make it stop singing.......Please...

Egon had decided that fifteen minutes would have to mean that Janine was on the edge of the park somewhere, hidden from view under a bush, on a park bench, anywhere. The guys had split up, combing the areas around the footpaths and walkways.

Winston was near a bridge going over the creek, when he thought he saw something under the bridge and ran toward it.

It wasn't Janine. Frustrated, he apologized to the baglady for waking her up. "Sorry, ma'am. I was looking for someone else." A thought struck him. "Did you see a tall blond guy, dressed in black, go by here not fifteen minutes ago?"

"What's it worth to you?" asked the woman, peering at him from beneath a shower cap.

"Anything. Please, a woman's life is in danger."

She relented. "He came over the bridge. In a hurry. That way."

"Thanks, lady. I owe you." Winston sprinted across the bridge, eyes searching on either side of the path for something, anything... there.

Under a pine tree, half-hidden from view, lay Janine Melnitz. She was wrapped in her trenchcoat, her arms and legs arranged like a corpse laid out in a funeral parlor. Winston went cold, running forward to slide to a stop and kneel beside her.

Janine's face was white as ice. A bloody tear across her neck gaped next to the marks from before. "Aw, Janine," Winston said painfully, taking her hand. "No, c'mon, girl.." He felt her wrist.

There was a pulse. Unsteady and very faint, but there. Relief swamped him. He radioed the others. "Guys! GUYS!! I found her! Get Ecto rolling, we gotta take her to the hospital!!" Picking her up as if she were no more than a child, he started to run back to the car. Ray came running from the north, Peter from farther east. Winston gently laid Janine in the back of Ecto as they piled in, Ray took the wheel, asking "How is she? Is she alive?"

"Yeah, but she won't be much longer. Egon, move it, get in here!" Winston yelled out the window.

Egon ran faster than he had ever run in his life, jumped in next to Ray, and swivelled around to look in back. What he saw made him shudder. Janine looked dead, like a fragile glass doll that someone had broken. "St. Cecelia's is closest, Ray!" Egon yelled over the siren as Ray drove off to the hospital.

In the back, Peter cradled Janine's hands. "You're going to be fine, just hang on a little longer, Janine, everything's going to be okay..." It better be. It has to be. "You can't quit on us now, Janine."

Peter wandered the corridors of St. Cecelia's, too wired to sleep. They'd brought Janine directly to the emergency room that morning, yelling for doctors. When a resident showed up, he'd taken one look at Janine and called for blood and an Intensive Care Team. Janine was still in I.C.U. Massive transfusions had kept her alive but she wasn't out of danger yet. The doctors were not optimistic.

One of the doctors who'd worked on Janine had had the bad taste and worse sense to make some crack about 'rough sex' and Egon had almost put him through the wall. It had taken all three of them together to keep him from killing the jerk. "Our friend might be dying and you're making jokes about it! If she dies because you didn't take this seriously I'll sue you and the hospital, see that you're kicked out of the medical profession, and break your legs myself!!" he'd yelled. It'd taken him an hour to calm down, by which time they'd been told how serious and life-threatening Janine's condition was.

Peter wandered by the lounge outside I.C.U. "Anything?" he asked the nurse on duty.

"Dr. O'Brien is in there right now. She might be able to tell you something when she gets out," the nurse said sympathetically.

Peter turned and stared at the door to the I.C.U. Through the window, he could see Janine, hooked up to tubes and machines. She'd been suffering from hypothermia as well as blood loss when they brought her in. She still looked hellish.

Ray and Winston were collapsed end to end on the couch outside the door. Janine had stabilized two hours before and the doctors had told them that there was nothing else they could do... just wait. Peter had drunk about sixteen cups of truly awful coffee to stay awake; but he didn't really need it he was running on pure adrenalin overload. Ray had fallen asleep first, emotionally wrung out and exhausted, feeling guilty about killing Justin. "Ray, you had to!" Winston had said intensely but quietly. "He would have gotten away."

"I know, I know," Ray had said, his head in his hands. "But if I hadn't killed him then, we might have found Janine faster. We could have made him tell us where she was..."

"Not a chance, Ray," Peter had said, putting his arm around him. "The sleaze wasn't gonna tell us, no matter what we did. He would have lied to us, delayed us from finding her, maybe killed us. He definitely would have killed me. He hated my guts."

"Peter's right, Ray," Egon had added. "You can't blame yourself. Justin is ultimately responsible for this."

Peter frowned around the lounge, looking for the physicist. He wasn't there. In fact, he hadn't seen him for about two hours.

Dr. O'Brien came out of I.C.U., a smile on her face. "Wake up your friends, I've got some great news," she said to Peter, watching his face light up.

"Janine?" he asked, hardly daring to hope. "She's okay?"

Dr. O'Brien grinned. Peter whooped in delight, picking her up off the floor, and swinging her around in a circle, waking up Ray and Winston with the noise he was making.

"What?" Ray asked groggily. He saw Peter jumping up and down, Winston grinning next to him, eyes closed, an expression of relief on his face. "Oh, thank you, thank you," Ray said, "Thanks so much, Doctor."

"No problem," she said, patting him on the shoulder. "Now, don't get me wrong, she's going to have to stay here for a couple more days. She could have a relapse. But with proper care and a lot of rest, she should be okay."

"Can we see her?" asked Winston.

"She's not conscious," the doctor said hesitantly.

"Please, Doc, we just have to see for ourselves," Peter said, green eyes pleading.

The doctor looked indecisive, then relented, nodding her head, her braid bobbing up and down. "Okay. Don't wake her up though, be very quiet. She needs all the rest she can get."

The guys filed in, standing near Janine's bed. Ray was crying with relief, tears on his face. Peter stroked Janine's hair. Winston said a thank-you prayer under his breath. She didn't look okay yet, but she was going to survive, that was the important part.

Peter walked out of I.C.U. hurriedly. He had to find Egon.

Egon Spengler sat alone in a stairwell, thinking. Remembering what Justin Tremaine had said before he died.

"It's your fault she had to die. Because you made her doubt me, because you made her scared, I had to kill her!"

He kept replaying what the vampire had said in his head, over and over, like a bad tape. He knew it was wrong. It had to be. If anyone was responsible, it was Tremaine. He had hurt Janine, not the Ghostbusters.

So why did he feel so lousy?

He'd done everything he could to prevent Janine's being hurt. They'd researched vampires, called Count Vostok, gone armed and ready to rescue her from Tremaine. It wasn't their fault he'd already attacked her. They were late by minutes, only a few minutes. She'd rejected the vampire, and he had retaliated. None of this was anything Egon was to blame for.

Except maybe, maybe... if she hadn't been so angry at them, she wouldn't have gone with Justin. Maybe if Egon hadn't lost his temper with her she wouldn't have gotten angry. If he hadn't been so defensive, they would have figured it out sooner, had better defenses ready. He wouldn't have been defensive if he hadn't been so conscious of Janine's unrequited feelings for him. If he had cared more about Janine, she wouldn't be here. Maybe.

He heard steps above him, coming down the stairs. Peter sat down behind him, two steps up. "Yo, Egon," he said.

"Hello, Peter." Egon continued to stare straight ahead.

"What are you doing?"

"Staring at the wall."

"Okay," Peter said, nodding as if that made perfect sense."Spengs?"

Egon closed his eyes, took off his glasses. Peter had come to tell him Janine was dead, he knew that. "You don't have to say it, Peter. I know." His voice was hoarse, falling flat in the quiet of the stairwell.

"Know what?" Peter asked gently.

"Janine's dead," Egon said mechanically, turning his glasses over in his hands. "And it's my fault."

"She's not dead, she's going to be okay."

Egon spun around, nearly slipping off the step. Peter was grinning hugely, and he grabbed Egon by the shoulder to help him keep his balance. "She's gonna have to stay here a while longer, but the doc says she'll be fine in about a week. She's going to be okay, Egon."

Egon took a breath, took another, then let them out. "That's great, Peter," he said, meaning it, but feeling guiltier than ever.

"So why aren't you smiling?" Peter asked, not taking his eyes off Egon's face.

"I feel responsible. I know, I know," he said, holding his hands up to stop Peter from speaking, "Justin Tremaine is the one who hurt her, he's the one who's responsible. I meant that when I said it to Ray, and I believe it now. But somehow, someway, this could have been prevented. If I'd listened to you and Ray sooner, maybe..."

"Egon, for godsake, how could it have been any sooner? We figured out he was bad for her, and a week later we knew he was a vampire. He was smart, he was sneaky. Janine was covering up for him and he was messing with her head so no one would notice. How could we have guessed that?" Peter asked, and saw Egon's face change when he mentioned Justin's control of Janine's mind.

"That's it, isn't it?" he asked.

"What's it?" asked Egon flatly, turning his face away.

"You're feeling guilty about this because of the way Janine feels about you. Felt about you," Peter corrected, and Egon winced. "You think you're to blame because you didn't feel for Janine what she felt for you."

Egon didn't speak for a minute, then asked softly: "Am I?"

"No." Peter was very definite. "Look, that went on for a long time, and it's not your fault you didn't feel the same way. And if you had, it wouldn't have stopped her from getting involved with Justin. That happened because he was a manipulative, creepy, slimebucket. Not because Janine was feeling rejected. He would have gone after her anyway. It had nothing to do with you or with Janine's feelings for you."

Egon gripped Peter's hand on his shoulder, feeling grateful. But not entirely exonerated. Janine's feelings for him had occasionally been a joke, and definitely awkward for him, but the truth was he rarely thought about it anymore, just accepted it. When she had started seeing Tremaine he had felt... neglected. Idiotic, but true. He didn't love her, but he had missed her. That was why he hadn't wanted to hear about her new boyfriend. He wished her well, but it was a change for her to be seriously involved with someone else. He looked up at Peter.

"There was no way you could have done more than you did, Egon," he said softly. "Janine is going to be okay. She's not going to blame you either. And we're going to have to help her through this. She's gonna feel like hell when she wakes up."

"She's really going to be all right?" Egon asked.

"Yup." Peter stood up. "Why don't you come see for yourself?"

Egon stretched, then followed Peter. "Now that is a great idea."

"Of course it is. I can always be depended upon to be brilliant," Peter grinned.

Egon grimaced, shook his head. No, Peter, you can just be depended on to be a good friend.

Janine slowly opened her eyes. There was a white ceiling above her, not leaves. She wondered why she had thought there would be. At least the singing stopped, she thought, and then wondered, what singing?

So in love...

She gagged, tried to get up. Her arms were held down, Justin was going to hurt her...

"Take it easy, it's all right, Janine, you're safe, you're okay," a familiar voice said. She turned her head, tried to catch her breath. Ray was standing next to her bed looking concerned, his hand on her arm. Her arms were connected to a myriad of tubes, tubes in her mouth, her nose... "Hospital?" she croaked, looking at Ray.

"Yeah, St. Cecelia's. Don't try to talk, the doctor said your throat is going to be pretty sore. Just relax, try to rest. We're all here."

"Justin?" she rasped, her eyes wide. Ray grimaced, mad at himself.

"He can't hurt you anymore, he's dead." Janine closed her eyes, tears sliding down her cheeks. "You're safe, Janine. You lost a lot of blood, and you got pretty chilled in the park..." Janine looked a question at him. Leaves... "He... left you in the park. Winston found you there."

"Oh god..." she breathed. "So stupid. I am so stupid."

Ray got more distressed. "Janine, it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have known. He was tricky. It's not your fault." Ray watched as Janine's tears started to flow faster. "Janine..." he said, stroking her hair, "you weren't stupid." He looked at the clock. "The doctor said we could only see you one at a time and my turn's up; the others want to see that you're all right. Don't blame yourself," he said sternly.

Janine nodded and tried to smile for him, but it was so hard. She had been so dumb, so naive.

Winston came in next, bringing a bouquet of flowers. "Hey, girlfriend, how're you doing?" he asked softly, putting the flowers on her bedside table.

"Not so hot," she said hoarsely. "Ray said you found me. Thanks," she whispered, hating to have to thank him, hating that she hadn't listened to the guys when they'd tried to warn her.

"Nothing to thank me for, it was a pleasure." Winston smiled and sat by her bed. "Listen, you shouldn't talk so much, you're going to wear yourself out. Just relax. You're going to be in here another two days." At Janine's alarmed expression, he added hastily, "You're going to be okay, don't worry. They just don't want a relapse; you had a case of hypothermia when we brought you in. A heart attack now would be a bad idea, wouldn't it? But that's not going to happen, you're going to rest," he tucked the blanket in closer around her, "and get better. How would we manage without our Number One secretary?"

Egon was next. Janine couldn't look at him. She closed her eyes and turned her head away, part of her wishing she was dead instead of having to talk to Egon about what had happened.

"Janine?" he said, softly. "Can you hear me?"

She nodded, not opening her eyes. "Justin Tremaine is dead," Egon went on in a quiet voice, leaning against the end of her bed. "Ray killed him. He can't hurt you again. We brought you to St. Cecelia's yesterday morning." At that, Janine's eyes flew open, and she looked at Egon. He looked miserable, and exhausted. She felt guiltier, awful, drained. So much she was responsible for... "It's Sunday afternoon, Janine. Take as much time as you need to get better, okay?" Egon cleared his throat, took off his glasses. "We're very glad you're going to be okay." Then he looked straight at her, and smiled sadly. "I'm very glad. So glad." Janine smiled at him. It was easier, somehow, this time. But she still felt horrible, still felt awful and stupid and used and idiotic and horrible.

Take as much time as you need... when had he said that before? Oh, right, Janine thought bitterly, Thursday, when you called up to tell him that if you felt like seeing Justin Tremaine, no one could stop you. You fool.

Peter was last, coming in and straddling the chair across from her. "Hey," he said, brushing her hair out of her face.

"Hey," she croaked back. Peter looked tired, but not as bad as Egon had. He always had more energy.

"How are you feeling?" he said, tilting his head, folding his arms across the chairback.

Janine started to say something, stopped. She was so tired. She was also hyperconscious of the tubes running in her, and extremely sore. The slight burning on her neck was reminding her of everything that happened. She met Peter's eyes, trying to find the words, but she was stopped by the compassion she saw there. She started to cry again, ashamed of the weakness but too tired to fight it.

"Yeah, thought so," he said. "Janine, it wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was, Peter," she choked out. She tried to catch her breath. "I was so stupid, I didn't listen to you guys, I let it happen..."

"Hey, hey, hey. Nobody calls my friends stupid, not even themselves. Let me see if I can guess how you're feeling, don't talk, okay?" He put a finger on her lips, stopping her. "You feel like you should have seen through him. You feel betrayed. You feel used, dirty, and ashamed." Janine started to cry harder. "It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. He was older, stronger, sneakier, and he cheated, Janine. He told us that you made the right choice before he died." Janine caught her breath, staring at Peter. He nodded. "Remember that. Remember that you didn't do anything you didn't want to. He was controlling your mind, Janine. Of course you couldn't see what he was. He did that to every woman he met. I had a talk with one of his ex-girlfriends, he did a real number on her, too. He was a control freak." He smiled at her. "But I know he could be charming. And fun. And he really liked you, Janine, he didn't fake that. It's not your fault you fell for him, he made sure you would."

Janine suddenly looked at him with clear eyes, wanting him to know something desperately. "Didn't love him," she rasped. "Knew that... when he asked me to... drink the blood. Not worth it. Couldn't."

Peter smiled at her, then got up and kissed her on top of her head. "You just remember that, Melnitz. You're nobody's fool."

After he left, Janine fell into a fitful sleep, dreams of Justin overlaid by the guys finding her in forests. They all went off down the yellow brick road, to see the wizard and then she ended up alone again, on a seashore somewhere. She stayed there, peaceful and alone, just watching the ocean until she drifted into a dreamless sleep completely unlike the darkness in the Park.

For the next week the guys were busy taking care of Janine. They still had obligations, jobs they'd agreed to do, but somehow they always managed it so that one of them was with her. While she was in the hospital, they were visiting during all of the visiting hours, bringing her games and tapes and stuffed animals, always talking to her, trying to keep her spirits up. When she got out the doctors were very specific---no working for at least four days. Ray and Winston did all the shopping for her, and came by and watched TV with her in the evenings. Peter dropped by pretty often too, and they had another talk about what had happened. Janine was beginning to feel less guilty. Peter told her everything they had found out about Justin, including some new stuff about his ex-girlfriends that they'd managed to con out of Sydney Price.

While not all of them had been as abused as Violet Fleming, none of them had escaped unscathed. All had experienced depressions after break-ups with Justin, and some of them were still in therapy because of him. Janine was starting to believe that she had been conned, that it wasn't her fault that she hadn't seen through him. Maybe she would have, given more time, or if he had been as aggressive with her as he had been with Violet. She still hadn't seen Egon alone since that one visit in the hospital. Whenever he came by he was with one of the others. Janine still felt awkward around him and she wasn't sure why---Peter and Ray and Winston were okay to talk to; she didn't feel uncomfortable around them---but if she was left alone with Egon for longer than a few minutes she became tongue-tied and stiff.

It was the week that she went back to work that they finally had a chance to talk alone about what had happened. Janine was typing up some invoices, muttering in disgust about unpaid bills and stupid clients, when Egon came down from the lab. He paused, and walked over to Janine. She looked up, wondering what was making him so uncomfortable.

"Um... Janine. I was wondering if I could talk to you." He fiddled with his data printout.

"About what?" she asked warily looking at him over her glasses.

"Justin Tremaine." Egon watched Janine's face close up, become expressionless and he hurried on, "I want to apologize for some of the things I said before everything happened. It wasn't fair to you, and I know I was out of line."

Janine interrupted him incredulously, saying, "You were out of line? Egon, I slapped you!"

"I remember," he said, adjusting his glasses. "You weren't yourself. I didn't make allowances for that, and I lost my temper. I feel partially responsible for what happened. If I had handled it better--"

Janine got mad. "Listen, Egon, you're not responsible for anything. I did it myself. I was too blind and too infatuated to see straight. I resented it when you guys got interested in what was going on. If I had calmed down for two minutes and listened to you, nothing might have happened. Or maybe he just would have waited until I wasn't suspicious, and done the same thing. But this is my life, Egon, it happened to me, I was attacked. You had nothing to do with it."

"Do you really believe that?" Egon asked, watching her closely. "Do you really believe that he might have done it anyway, waited until the time was right?"

Janine sighed, looked down at her hands. "Yeah, Egon, I do. He was so smooth. I look back on it now," she stopped, started again. "Looking back on it, he did everything so perfectly. Told me I was beautiful. Asked me to model for him. Called me exciting and vital. Took me to exciting places. Bought me dinners and theater tickets and..." she let out a breath, looked up at him. "He just gave me everything I thought I wanted. Not what I needed, nothing real. I only knew him six weeks, Egon, only six weeks, and he wanted me to give up my whole life to keep him company. I didn't love him."

"So you're not blaming yourself anymore," Egon said definitely.

Janine looked surprised, then grinned. "Have you been taking lessons from Dr. Venkman?" she asked.

Egon smiled, and pushed his glasses back up. "No, but it's not a bad idea. He has a talent for... cutting through the excrement." Egon dropped his eyes. "But I still feel guilty."

"Why?" asked Janine in genuine puzzlement. Egon raised an eyebrow at her. Suddenly, she got it. "Egon..." she said, exasperated.

He shook his head, tried to say something, then stopped. He looked in her eyes. "We've never really talked about," and then stalled again, shaking his head, looking too embarrassed to continue.

"And we're not going to." Janine grabbed his hand, forced his attention back to her. "Egon, don't feel guilty. What I felt for you, it was, I don't know." She took a frustrated breath. "It was realer than what I felt for Justin. But it's not the same now, it can't be, I've been through too many weird things. Just don't worry about it, okay?"

Egon was quiet, then asked her one last question. "Friends?"

"Always." She grinned, and let go of his hand. "But don't think that means I'm forgetting you owe me a raise."

"Don't think it means you're getting it any time soon, either. Peter is still in charge of finances."

"Egon, he'll never..."

"But I think he mentioned something about extra pay for sick time last week. Check with him later." Egon grinned and headed toward thecontainment unit. Janine glared after him.

Slimer waved to her from upstairs, yelling "Janine! Pancakes! Want some?"

"Sure, Slimer," she yelled back as the phone rang. "Ghostbusters, whaddaya want?"

...End...?

"So In Love," Original Song Copyright 1936, Cole Porter, The Chappel Co.; k.d.lang version on Red Hot + Blue, Copyright 1990, King Cole Productions.

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