By Fire Frog.

"Shit." Said Winston, deep conviction in his voice. He, Ray and Janine huddled in the thin morning light shinning through the open front doors, as they gathered around the engine of Ecto 1, reading a newspaper that was spread out on the cars hood.

"What's up?" Peter asked, coming down the stairs. With no Egon to wake him Peter was getting out of bed later, but surprisingly not that much later, as it felt kind of empty in there without his honey to cuddle up to.

"Afternoon, Pete." Winston greeted him dryly, remembering that it had been the brunette's turn to burn breakfast this morning. Then he frowned down at the paper, Peter was not going to like this. "Trouble," he said and pointed at the headline with his chin.

Peter sauntered over and cast his eyes over the open tabloid, stopping to re-read the by line carefully. "Shit," he said, when he'd finished.

"It could be my fault." Ray admitted guiltily, twisting and untwisting the cap off a bottle of oil in his hands. "I have been buying all those baby books. Someone may have noticed and put two and two together...I'm sorry." Big brown eyes turned Peter's way and the other man groaned softly in exasperation.

"It could have been any of us, Tex." Peter slung an arm around his friend's shoulders and squeezed reassuringly, giving his arm a friendly pat. "I, ah, may have gone on a bit about needing a family car to my dealer, or someone at the police station or hospital may have talked. The problem now is, what are we gonna do about it?"

"What I don't get is how they assumed I'm the one pregnant! Just because I'm a woman!" Janine fumed. The guys turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. "What?" she snapped, a challenge in her voice.

"Nothing, just...nothing." Peter said placatingly.

Janine gave him the evil eye. Well, the headline had blurted 'Ghostbuster Secretary Falls for Charms of Playboy Boss!' As if she'd go anywhere near the creep! She wouldn't touch Peter Venkman with a ten-foot pole, although a baseball bat would have some appeal, especially if he even thought about smirking about all this....

Why him? Why had the papers picked him as the dad? The article even came with an old photo of her standing next to Venkman at some award night, the shoulder of her real date, Egon Spengler, just visible on her other side, which had been cropped.

"Janine?" Peter's voice caught her off guard and she turned to unexpectedly find herself staring into a pair of big, begging, green eyes.

She had seen the look before. It was accompanied by the pleading voice used when the guys wanted to borrow her car, or to get her to stay back and do taxes, or play bait for some particularly nasty demon or...oh. Play decoy.

Her first response was to yell no and to hell with Peter Venkman! What had he ever done for her, except steal her boyfriend? And underpay her every chance he got. And get her to risk life and motor insurance for the company!

But Janine knew this wasn't really for Peter, it was for Egon. And secretly she'd still do anything for that man, even if he had jilted her for the obnoxious one of the Ghostbusters.

So she bit back her hostility and sighed - "Alright, I'll do it," with shoulders slumped and face resigned.

**

Ray was helping Janine settle the little cushion they had made to match Egon's bump around her middle when the fire houses door slammed open and an irate woman in a tight fitting pink twin-set with pearls marched in and slapped Peter Venkman across the face.

This wasn't an unprecedented happening, except Peter was sure he'd never seen the lady before in his life. The woman shoved her large and pointy glasses more firmly onto her nose at him then turned and stared at Ray and Janine. That's when Peter knew who she was. Nobody glares like a mother, and the woman's eyes fastened on Ray hotly as the younger Ghostbuster rested his hand on her daughters padded belly.

"This isn't what it looks like!" Ray gulped, jerking his hands away and holding them behind his back.

"Janine Melnitz, just who the hell is the father of that baby!" The Melnitz matriarch pointed dramatically between Peter, Ray and Winston, who had the misfortune to turn up just then and froze like a deer in the headlights. They all hastily backed away from Janine, denying everything at the top of their lungs.

"Where's that Egon Spengler, I'd like to know!" Janine's mom hissed, eyes searching the room. "Fine boyfriend he turned out to be!"

"Mom, it wasn't Egon. Well, not really, sort of more Peter, but not...." Janine's ability to tell the story died on her lips as the absurdity of it all fully hit her. Who was going to ever believe them? Mrs Melnitz slapped Peter again for good measure then headed for the desk where she appropriated a chair and sat herself down.

"You may all leave, I wish to discuss this with my daughter." She stated firmly.

The guys made a rush for the stairs, converging again in the sanctuary of the kitchen.

"Wow, Janine's hair is natural! It's the same shade as her mom's." Ray babbled irrelevantly.

"Haven't you ever heard of generational customer loyalty?" Winston asked, turning on the kettle. "I bet the whole family uses the same colour and they buy it by the truckload to get a huge discount."

"Enough with the hair already." Peter groused, rubbing his cheek unhappily. "We've just been thrown out of our own offices. I mean, who's the boss here, her or me? Us?"

"You wanna go tell her, be my guest." Winston told him, digging out his favourite set of handmade plates. Sounded like comfort food time, and while he couldn't do cocoa like Egon could, he did have a stash of gingernut custard slices hidden away in the fridge. Time to dig them out.

"Why has everything got to be done the hard way." Peter whined, then his eye's fastened on what Winston had just pulled out of the fridge and he moved in closer, giving the treats a hopeful look. Life was never so bad that fattening foods couldn't help to some degree, that look said. And real buddies always liked to share in a crisis. Right Winston?

**

It was several hours before Mrs Melnitz was satisfied, and Ray had had to go down and explain the theory of it all, drawing diagrams, displaying the ultrasound scans. He'd also taken gingernut custard slices with him, and that had helped a lot.

"I don't like it." Janine's mom had declared, but then her eyes had noted her daughter's tearful look and her own face softened immediately. With a loud sigh she'd patted her daughters arm. "It's a good thing you're doing, honey, but be careful. There is going to be trouble, I can feel it. The world is full of nut cases. Look after yourself, do you hear?"

Janine nodded solemnly, then got up and gave her mom a hug. Whispering conspiratorially they headed for the front door, where Mrs Melnitz could hail herself a cab. Ray summoned the other guys and they were waiting for Janine, lined up against her desk, when she got back.

"Ma reminded me of something." She said, taking her place before her computer console. She smiled sphinx like and Peter's knees began to shake. "She said that in order to pull this off properly, to really fool the news hounds into thinking I'm the one that's pregnant by wearing that apron thingy..."

"The adjustable empathy suit." Ray provided helpfully. Janine nodded distractedly and continued talking, watching Peter from the corner of her eye,

"That adjustable empathy thingy, then I'm gonna need - a .complete .new .wardrobe."

She enunciated each of those last words carefully and Peter flinched at every single one.

**

Egon was rather more unsure about having Janine play decoy for him when he got back home.

"We won't actually say anything." Janine insisted. "I'll just wear one of those maternity/paternity bump things, the waddayacallit - empathy suit that expectant dads can get and go shopping with you."

"But what of your reputation, Janine?" Egon asked, worriedly.

"Oh Egon!" Janine gave him a warm smile. The kind of reputation she'd had in her day, /and every damn word of it true!/, she wouldn't mind another ring to her onion. But still Egon was worried for her virtue! He was just so cute she was going to have to forgive him for falling for Peter Venkman. Of course, she was never going to forgive Doctor V. Never!

...

"Trains." Peter said firmly.

"So you already know the sex of the baby?" the immaculately dressed and coifed sales assistant at BabySplendid burbled enthusiastically. She'd recognised them immediately and all but pushed the shops only other worker out of her way to get to them.

"No." Egon said firmly, both in answer to the assistant's question and Peter's suggestion of baby decor motif.

"Aw, come on!" Peter wheedled. "Everybody loves trains! And I refuse to condone the use of clowns." He jutted out his jaw stubbornly, giving Ray the evil eye. Ray put the light up clown lamp down with a disappointed sigh.

With the legitimate 'pregnancy' rumour to cover them the guys were free at last to hit the baby shops in earnest, instead of covertly like they had been doing.

Whilst paging through an up-scale maternity wear magazine Janine had casually asked what the baby rooms central motif would be. Apparently it was a central issue. She said it was best to pick one early so that the gifts from relatives and friends would work into the theme instead of against it. They had bowed to her wisdom and piled into Ecto, the company credit card burning a hole in Peter's pocket.

"Actually I was thinking Lepidoptera." Egon murmured.

"Butterflies? Egon, that's so girlie!" Peter groused.

"That is a sexist misconstruction." Egon replied irritably. He had a headache, his nose was stuffed up and he felt incredibly tired. He had thought he was coming down with a cold, but Turnbull had assured him that was not the case. It was being caused by the alleged pregnancy. Damn it. At least the pain in his hips had stopped for today. He'd looked at himself in the bathroom mirror this morning and decided the widening of his pelvic area combined with the tall thinness of the rest of him made him look like a giant tapeworm.

"How about baseball as a theme?" Winston asked, holding up a bunny blanket covered with bat and ball prints.

"No." said Egon.

"Cartoon characters?" Ray showed off a Mickey Mouse bib.

"No." said Egon.

"Fairies are popular for girls!" the shop assistant chimed in.

"No!" they chorused - there were going to be no more of the 'fair folk' in this kids life!

"And what does the Mommy-to-be think will look good?" The assistant smiled shark like at Janine.

"Huh?" Janine looked up from a box of rattles and blinked her eyes. The empathy suit was new and itchy and made her trendy black yuppy mom dress ride up at the front, she was gonna make Peter stick to that promise he'd made about a silk lining for the damned thing 'today'. "Uh...I don't know. Egon? I'll go with whatever you pick."

"Butterflies are an appropriate image to co-ordinate the baby's room with. They are bright and colourful and represent the whimsy and architecture of nature."

The others blinked at him, then turned to the shop assistant.

"Butterflies it is." Peter told her. She gave them a curious look, the newspaper had claimed Peter Venkman was the father, but they were acceding to Egon Spengler's wishes. She smelled a rat, but dutifully pulling out a catalogue with BabySplendid's butterfly motif range of accessories. The other rumours must be true, then. She could hardly wait for the Ghostbusters to leave so she could phone her friends and share this exclusive bit of gossip! They would never believe the real Ghostbusters had been in her shop!

***

Ray and Egon were cleaning out the store room behind the upper lab. They had plenty of time to do so, as the Stargate Ray had built needed to be astrologically tuned, something that had come as a bit of a blow to their plans. Ray still had hopes of contacting the Fairy Realm soon, but Egon was less certain.

Winston and Peter had hired a haulage van to take all the old stuff to a secure hired storage facility. They were dropping off the heavy items now, while Ray and Egon packed what was left. When the room was empty it would be painted and carpeted, ready to be turned into a baby salon.

"This is so cool!" Ray enthused as he boxed up some old Ermile glassware and squashed newspaper around them as padding. "I went through my stuff at Aunt Lois's house and found my old wooden pull cart full of blocks. Winston and I are gonna do it up, only we're gonna redo the Alphabet into Sumerian, like what your mum did with those flash cards when you were a kid. You should see it, the cart is as sound as the day it was made, they really knew how to get 'em to last back then." There was an almost wistful note to the youngest Ghostbusters voice.

"Fascinating." Said Egon, folding another dust cover and placing it with the others. They had lots of them, brought to go with equipment that they had subsequently taken apart and rebuilt, so that now the covers didn't fit any of the equipment any more.

"What's wrong?" Ray went over and rested a hand on Egon's arm. "You don't seem...happy."

"Happy?" Egon blinked at his friend from behind his dust smeared lenses, suddenly feeling the tight rein he kept on his emotions unexpectedly, violently, slip free. "Happy Ray? What possible reason could I have to be happy?" He slammed the folded cover in his hands down forcefully. Ray's mouth dropped open as Egon turned from him, knocking aside his comforting hand.

"My life is in shambles! What is going to happen to my work, Ray, when the baby comes? My academic career will be over, my time as a Ghostbuster will be over! Ghostbusters itself may be over, if the threat to our reputations is great enough!"

"You...you're just feeling tired, Egon." Ray said, trying to calm him down.

"Yes, I'm tired!" Egon snapped. "I'm tired of being told I'm tired, of...of being told how I feel! 'You're not well Egon, you'll feel better after a nap Egon, don't lift that Egon, stay at home Egon - don't have a life Egon!' I can't take it any more, Ray!"

The stressed scientist reached out and grabbed the younger man's shoulders. Ray could feel the tension shaking through him.

"But...but it will be worth it when the baby comes, won't it?" he asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

"No, Ray, it won't." Egon whispered. "Ray, Peter Venkman is the father of my child. Peter. Do you know what he wants to buy as a first birthday present, Ray? A train set. A. Train. Set." He shook the other man in emphasis. "Do you know how dangerous it would be if the baby swallowed a piece of train track Ray? Just what sort of father would be irresponsible enough...what kind of a 'father' will he...." Egon's words broke off, his intense gaze falling away from Rays eyes and down to the floor. Suddenly the knife edge feeling of tension left him and like a puppet unstrung he fell to his knees.

"Egon?" Ray immediately followed him down, slipping an arm around his friend and holding on tight.

"Ray?" The scientist's voice sounded tired beyond measure. "Ray...what sort of father will I be? I...my own father was so distant. He was a great man, but, so cold sometimes. Statistically speaking I am predisposed to bring up my own offspring the same way that he did. That or go counter to it and join Peter in coddling the infant to death. I'm afraid, Ray. Afraid of what the future holds. Peter and I, we are not especially overburdened with parental skills. Years ago, some time after meeting Janine's nephew in fact, I determined not to join the heard in mindless procreation. I had expected to remain single because of that decision. This was unexpected. Not unwelcome, but unexpected and I do not know what to do about it."

His voice was soft with hopelessness and Ray clutched him close, bringing the blond's head down to rest on his shoulder.

"Shh, shh. Its going to be alright, Egon. Winston and me, Janine and your mom, we'll all help, you know that. We won't let you do this on your own, we'll be here to help out, to talk, to listen. We love you guys. And Peter will be a great father, he's always good with those Ghostbuster fan club kids. Gosh, I'm almost positive he was joking about the train set."

Egon gave a choked laugh and Ray brightened at the response.

"Egon?" Ray moved away a bit until the other man glanced up at him. They both had red and shinny eyes, and their lips twitched at the ridiculousness of it all, two grown men sitting on the floor, acting like a couple of wet hens. Egon hiccupped a laugh, but Ray remained a little serious, reaching over to tilt his friend's face back with gentle pressure, making him look directly into his eyes.

"Egon, you are gonna make a great dad. I know you, and you're gonna try to be the best father that you can be." Ray moved in closer till they were almost nose to nose so he could 'look' the truth of his words into Egon's eyes. "And whatever you set your mind to do - you do it. I've never known you fail at anything important and you won't fail at this. Trust me, I'm an engineer. We know theses things."

Egon just blinked at him for a moment, then a tiny curl appeared at the corner of his mouth. Satisfied that he'd made his point, Ray pulled him close once more, settling the blond's head back onto his shoulder. They rested there that way for a long time, Ray finding the weight of having someone curled into his arms oddly satisfying. They sat and breathed together, unwinding slowly from the drama of Egon's revelations of his fears.

...

A little while later.

"What unimportant things have I failed at?" the scientist asked.

"Huh?" Ray blinked, pulled away from a vague daydream about finding the perfect teddy bear, something about Egon's weight, but not his hight because he'd like to be able to rest his head on the bears head....

"You said I never failed at the important things. What were the unimportant things?"

"Well...." Ray hedged, but then thought to himself, /What the hell, may as well tell him the truth./ "Do you remember that turkey dinner you tried to toast with the ioniser?"

"Ah. Yes." A hint of embarrassment lit his cheeks as Egon recalled the incident.

"Then there was the meringue you decided to zap in the microwave." Ray continued happily.

"I did replace the turn table." Egon defended himself.

"What about the time you used lettuce instead of spinach in that Quiche?"

"An easy mistake to make - they are both green, leafy vegetation...."

"And the sweat sandwiches and, oh yeah, how about the time you forgot to pit the avocados for the guacamole dip before adding them to the electric blender. Or...."

"Yes, yes, I concede your point Ray." Egon agreed a mite testily. Ray smiled.

"Don't worry, Egon. The guys think I can't cook either, but it hasn't stopped me trying! I'm sure we'll both get better with time."

"You mean, after we've made every conceivable mistake there is to make first." Egon frowned.

"Yeah. Um, by the way. If a container has the letter S on it...."

"....don't assume its sugar, it might be salt." Egon finished for him.

"You've done that too?" Ray asked, surprised.

"Yes. Not even Slimer would eat the resultant fruit whip. That is until I poured it into an ice-cream container and told him it was melted vanilla and cherry surprise."

"Did he get the surprise?"

"I don't think it hit the sides on the way down." Egon chuckled.

"That's Slimer!" Ray grinned proudly. He did love that greedy little ghost!

**

Egon Spengler emerged from the kitchen, plate piled high with a late afternoon snack of strawberry jam smothered scones. As he headed for the comfort of the recreation rooms lounge he spied Winston coming towards him, a strange light in his dark eyes.

/Oh, please don't let him offer me another foot massage./ Egon thought gloomily. Winston was a good team member, an excellent friend, but a lousy masseuse. The line between therapeutic and torturous had blurred for the man, unable as he was to grasp certain truths. Delicate foot bones needed only firm but light strokes, not the heavy pressure required for deep muscle massages. Egon considered running, but it was already to late.

"Hi." Winston came up and rested a hand on Egon's shoulder, effectively capturing him. "Look, Ray had a word with me about earlier...."

The words resounded in Egon's head, and the mild annoyance he had felt threatening jumped on him like a cat on a rat, sparking an intensely irate internal monologue.

/Ray had a word with you. Well, yes, naturally Ray had a word. I'm the most interesting thing there is to talk about around here. Not even Janine's impending law suit against that journalist who called her a 'sly modern miss, out to screw the Ghostbusters for every penny they've got', or the meteor shower that was proceeded by a rain of lost fountain pens, or the mysterious sightings of New Yorks city based god can contend with what I had for breakfast this morning.

Why not discuss my total loss of self-control and humiliating attack of nerves. I'm overdue a book at the library, too. My world is a bicycle going down hill with the speed set on 'freewheel'. Go ahead and discuss it all you want. Accidents are always fun to watch, and you're getting this one in slow mode already, an added benefit./

"....as I told Peter, several times now, we'll be here for you. Whatever comes." Winston squeezed the tense shoulder under his hand and Egon blinked, breaking free of his bad humour as if it had been some kind of blinding spell.

He realised with a start that he had been so intent on his internal vexation that he'd missed Winston's pep talk entirely! What an exceedingly rude thing for him to have done, the man had obviously spent some time considering what words would help make Egon's world a happier place, and he'd missed them all.

On top of everything else Egon felt he was turning out to be a terrible friend as well. He put on his 'listening' look, determined not to miss another word. Unfortunately the next sentences out of Winston's mouth were just a little weirder than he had anticipated.

"You know Egon, you're so lucky," the dark skinned Ghostbuster began. "You've got Peter, you've got this life and now you're gonna have a kid. I think it's great you can have a baby, I'd love to be able to do that."

Winston's eyes flickered down to Egon's expanded midriff and stayed there. "I don't talk about it much, but when I was in the army I did some terrible things. At first I was scared, I thought killing would be hard and I worried about letting down my guys, getting us all toasted. But I was wrong, it's easy, stupidly, thoughtlessly easy, to kill someone."

Winston seemed almost drawn to Egon's waist, the way his entire upper body lent down showed he very much wanted to touch it. Egon shifted uneasily from foot to foot, unsure where this was heading.

"I wish...I'd like the chance to create a life. Sort of make up for things, you know? Even out the balance." Winston's hand moved to trace the air over the bump in Egon's middle with an almost reverent awe. "To have an actual life growing inside of you. It's a miracle. I envy you so much. Can I, can I touch...?"

A little disturbed at the fervour in Winston's voice Egon nodded agreement. No sooner had he done so that Winston enveloped his waist in a hug, resting his ear against Egon's bellybutton. The taller man stiffened in surprise, holding his plate of scones up higher out of the way, not certain what the proper response to all this was.

Should he gently pat Winston's shoulder and make soothing noises, or should he call for help and a tranquilliser gun? Really, you'd never know he was the one pregnant, the others were the ones acting stranger and stranger as the months went by, not him. Feeling vaguely put upon Egon delicately picked up a scone from off the plate and began to munch on it. No need to let them get cold, after all.

***

"Look what I got you!" Peter crowed, striding into what had now become the official 'gate room'. Egon, intent on a piece of circuitry that needed readjusting for the coming star alignment, frowned at the connector board and tightened his grip on his micro screwdriver. He closed his eyes briefly and prayed that Peter had given up on the raw liver idea, and simply had an unusual bathroom mould to show him, or his latest humorous impersonation of Winston finding the hubcaps had been stolen from Ecto that time in the park.

Turning slowly Egon opened his eyes and realised he should not have put his faith in the interventions of a higher entity.

It was volumouse, it was blue, it had bright yellow piping and it was made out of hideous tracksuit material. Across the chest, in a rather nice pale green that clashed with the yellow accents, were the words 'Tress Babe' and an arrow pointing down to the tummy area.

"I don't believe saying I'm with child in French is going to disguise much." Egon muttered as neutrally as he could, while suppressing the urge to stab some body (he wasn't sure who) through the eye with his screwdriver.

"You won't wear it outside, Spengs. This is for wearing around the lab. It's getting chilly at night and this things fleece lined. Here, put it on now."

Peter bustled over and helped Egon slide the thing over his head. It hung to the physicist's knees, which Peter claimed made him look adorable. The brunette drew him into a tight hug, just as Egon decided who to use the screwdriver on, but it was too late for that now, his arms were pinned to his side.

Egon decided to endure the hug stoically. He had talked with his mother on the phone and been assured that his friends reactions were quite all right as well. He was lucky, many women faced out right jealousy and envy from their spouses and friends over their pregnancies.

Instead, the Real Ghostbusters had recently turned into touchy-feely control freaks and ...oh, the surprise...shop-a-holics. He had had his clues earlier when they had reacted to his request for clothes that fit by hauling him out to the tailors. His wardrobe was now jammed solid with clothes for the bigger man. He wasn't entirely sure, looking at some of the things they had brought, if they expected him to give birth to a baby or a small whale, but either way, he had room for both.

They had collectively purchased enough nursery items to stock a baby furniture warehouse. Ray had informed him that it was bad luck to get a cradle before the baby was born, so he was putting it on lay-by with the jungle gym and baby bouncer. He wondered what else was laying in wait at lay-by.

Egon wished Peter had put this item of clothing on lay-by as well. Maybe he would have forgotten to go back to pick it up. If that had happened then he wouldn't have to do what he was about to do now. Gritting his teeth Egon steeled himself into saying, as sincerely as he could - "Thank you Peter, it's very thoughtfully."

Mother had said Peter would be feeling helpless and his little efforts should be rewarded. That is, up to a certain extent. She had given him very explicit instructions on what to do should the raw liver be offered again.

Peter's hug had grown tighter. "I knew you'd like it," he sighed. This was not irony. For some reason Peter genuinely thought Egon would like all the hideous thing's he'd found for his lover to wear.

But then, Peter had never had the best fashion sense. Egon shuddered at the memory of the outfits he had originally drawn up for the Ghostbusters to wear before he and Ray vetoed them and came up with their current uniform. Ray had shown the old designs to Winston once and the black man had howled so much with laughter Janine had come running up with a thrower thinking a class four was loose in the building.

Doctor Venkman wanted to have the soul of an artist. What he got was the soul of an interior decorator. Egon sighed and rested his head against Peter's.

/He's my interior decorator./ he thought fondly. /And I love him for it./ and that was all there was to it.

***

Egon woke to the sound of whispering out in the hall. Curious he got up, noticing that Peter wasn't in the bed as he did so. Worried, clad in nightgown, glasses, nightcap and slippers, he went to investigate.

"What's going on?" he found Ray, Winston and Peter having a conference in the hallway. All three men looked bleakly washed out in the light of the ceiling lamp. Peter also had that maniacal 'just try me' look that told his friends the psychologist was very, very angry. And under and through that fear ran like a living purple thread.

"God damn it Egon, we can't catch a break! Somebody's squealed, and when I find out who they're gonna be one sorry sack of bones, and that's a promise from Doctor Venkman...." Peter noticed Ray wincing and Winston making 'cool it' faces at him, so he took a steadying breath then released it slowly, hoping to release his anger at the same time. They were right, anger now would be detrimental, he needed calm. They could be in some very real trouble here.

"Squealed?" Egon asked curiously.

"About the baby." Ray told him solemnly. "Winston and I went out for a late snack between episodes of 'B Movies That Wouldn't Die'..."

"The all night movie marathon you've been going on about, I remember." Egon confirmed, taking off his glassed and polishing them on the hem of his night gown. He noticed Peter staring at his revealed legs and felt 'something' shudder down his spine. Something embarrassed, but very, very pleased. It took him a moment to process what Ray was saying, as his own feelings had distracted him, most unscientific!

"Yeah, it was fun too, only later while we were deciding on skim or calcium enriched milkshakes at the counter the morning papers got dropped off and the headlines caught our eye. It's not very complimentary, and - well..." Ray held out a bedraggled looking newspaper.

Egon took it and read for a little while, then looking sick he let the paper fall from his hands.

"I don't want to do this. I won't do it," he said in deceptively mild tones, while turning anxious eyes upon his companions. "I will not have this turned into a three ringed circus. Ghostbusters may belong to the media, but I do not. I will not have my child in a spotlight. Is that clear?"

"Yeah." Winston soothed, taking Egon's arm in agreement. "You're right. We won't let that happen. We've made a few contingency plans, we'll put them in place right now." His steady gaze pulled the physicist back onto a more even keel and he nodded to show he understood.

"Thank you Winston."

"Now I think...."

KNOCK, KNOCK.

The four men looked at each other in grim alarm. There had been a certain confidence to that knock, so early in the morning.

"I'll go." Winston had a feeling he knew who was out there, and to his disgust he was right. He re climbed the stairs slowly, with the sound of knocking still echoing from below.

"It's too late." He said glumly, "We're surrounded. They're at the backdoor too." Well, plan one, 'get the hell out of there', was down the tubes. Unless....

"There are helicopters circling." Ray's subdued voice came from the stairs. And plan two, 'fly the hell out of there in Ecto4' was also done for.

Peter stood with his arms wrapped around Egon, holding the other man tightly. They both looked more than a little scared. The media had them pinned down like rats in a trap.

"Oh shit." Said Winston.

***

"Its Janine!" Ray's cry motivated the others to crowd round the front door. At least, as close to the front door as their security guards would allow them to get.

Escorted by police Janine squeezed her way through the media madness parked on their doorstep (and rooftop and window ledges, anywhere they could get a toe hold). From the length of time it took for her to get there things had grown even worse, the crowd had to be blocking off traffic now, and it wasn't even mid morning yet.

The security firm Peter and Winston had lined up had arrived fifteen minutes after their phone call. The police had arrived twenty minutes after that, called in by the security team as back up when the media hoard became uncontrollable.

"And your mother!" Janine yelled to the crowed over her shoulder as she was bundled in through the doorway.

"Janine, are you all right?" Egon's concern immediately worked to sooth her ruffled feathers and she straitened her power suits jacket and twitched her skirt into a more acceptable line. The suit was a present from Peter, one she hadn't asked for, and its slightly oversized top hid her waist away nicely so the appearance of a bump couldn't be confirmed or denied by sight alone.

"I'm fine, just a little annoyed at the gorillas out there. You should have heard some of the things they were asking me!"

"What things?" Ray asked innocently. Peter and Winston, who had been close enough to hear the questions quite clearly, shot him a dirty look. Egon didn't need to know.

"Um, just stuff." Janine hedged, turning and pointing imperiously to her desk as she spoke to the young policeman that had followed her in and now stood just behind her, his arms full of packages. "You can put those on the table, then that will be all." Her command had the casual air of somebody saying something that they had always wanted to say, but the opportunity had never presented itself before. The cop put down the packages and hastily left.

"I believe the papers think we run a seraglio." Egon told Ray, proving he had heard at least part of what had been asked of Janine.

"Gosh!"

"And that both I and Janine have become pregnant due to our participation in group orgies." Egon finished blandly. One of the security men over by the door gave them an odd look and Peter moved to stand between him and Egon, scowling a silent 'back off'.

"Uh, how were they handling the 'you' part of that?" Winston asked cautiously.

"I believe they were split in their references to 'the hermaphrodite' and 'the former butch lesbian'." Egon replied.

"You heard all that?" Janine asked, surprised.

"When he taught classes they called him radar ears, no notes got passed, no jokes got whispered when Egon was the lecturer." Ray grinned fondly.

"There was speculation on where the Ghostbusting business came into things." Egon added sadly. "I believe necrophilia was mentioned...."

The others paled, amazed at how low the press were willing to take this. Things were looking bad, Peter turned to look at Janine, hoping she had something that would help them pull a Houdini. "What's in the box?" he asked her.

"Disguises!" Janine smiled, brightening up as she remembered her fiendishly clever plan.

"What kind of disguises?" Winston gave her a more suspicious look. Any plot that their secretary cooked up had to be treated cautiously, in his opinion.

"You'll see!" Janine crowed, grabbing Egon and pulling him away from Peter and towards the stairs.

Not too much later a tall, prim looking lass with platinum blond hair, wearing red glasses, a pale blue neck to ankles old style dress (with lavender netting neckline and sleaves) that brought out the blue of her lightly made up eyes, came back down them.

"Ray." The tall lass said with Egon's deep voice. "You're next."

Ray went up. A motherly kind of woman dressed in green, with a huge handbag and matching hat came down.

"Your turn." She whispered to Winston. Zed firmed his jaw and looked stubborn.

"Winston!" Janine summoned him impatiently. "Winston, I know where you keep your Ring Ding hoard! Get up here!"

"He has a Ring Ding hoard?" asked Ra...er...Rhonda.

"Yes, and Janine won't tell me...us, where it is." Ego...Elizabeth murmured disgruntledly.

"To heck with this." Peter headed up the stairs and did a sharp turn into the bunkroom, determined to do his own makeover. The sound of male complaints could clearly be heard as he passed by the bathroom.

"All right, where's that little weasel hiding?" Janine demanded when she came down the stairs with ...Wilma, the respectable Afro American woman dressed in a dark purple dress with matching jacket and pill box hat, a gold cross hanging on a chain at her throat.

"Great make up, guys! Sweetie, you look a little pale, try a deeper plum coloured lippie." Peter suggested, making his own entrance in a slinky floor length red party dress. He held an ebony cigarette holder in one hand and played with a long string of fake pearls with the other. Peter had two lemons in the toes of stockings slung round his neck and under the dress to simulate perky, swinging breasts. The others unconsciously pulled their shoulders back, making the padded bras Janine had brought them stand out more.

"Hey! You've still got my dress! You said you'd given it to Goodwill you...you pervert!" Janine's fists rested menacingly on her hips. "And after I went ahead and lent it to you for that celebrity roast! I'm gonna roast you, all right, I'm gonna take that cigarette holder and...."

"Hey!" Peter held his hands up in surrender. "I was gonna give it back to you, I had to have it dry cleaned first, I got chow mien all down the front. Look, see, all fixed, no stain, all gone. I was just waiting for the appropriate time, is all." Peter jiggled his shoulders to make the lemons swing and bring her attention to the stain free front of the dress. The Ghostbuster grinned at her and fingered his pearls teasingly. He had been planning to wrap the dress up and give it to her for Christmas, rolled around her 'real' present, a gold and diamond broach she had been moaning about ever since she'd seen it in the jewellery shop window and which all the team had chipped in to buy for her.

"You don't match with the rest of us." Winston abruptly pointed out, a hint of resentment creeping into his voice. Zed didn't like his hat, it was sitting on his hair oddly and the veil was plain annoying. He wanted perky breast, too. Right now he looked like his mother, and it was more than a little freaky.

"Like we're gonna wear these out." Peter snorted.

"We do kinda still look like ourselves." Ray murmured, clutching his handbag tightly. Something was creeping slowly down one of his legs and he was hoping it was only a stocking. But he wasn't going to lift his skirt and check, not in front of the guys, it would be too embarrassing. What if they looked at his legs?

Suddenly they heard the front door opening, spilling in the noise from the crowd outside. A figure flanked by stern looking police officers squeezed through, then the door slammed shut once more.

"I thought they were only supposed to let in Doc Turnbull or close family." Winston murmured to Peter, turning the little box shaped clutch purse in his hands worriedly.

"They were." Peter confirmed. He had instantly gone to stand by Egon again, fearing bad news from the Doctor. What terrible thing would make Turnbull brave the maddened crowd to tell them face to face? He reached for and found Egon's hand as the blond reached out for his.

"Peter!" yelled the figure as it made its way round Ecto towards them.

"Dad?" Peter gasped, giving the pearls at his throat a surprised jerk and breaking the string. They rained to the ground with plip plip noises as Mr Venkman came closer and grabbed his son in a crushing embrace.

"So who's the lucky dame?" Charlie asked, pounding his son on the back. "The radio said the secretary or some herm...hermofrit...I didn't get that part, sounded like a librarian job or something. And I thought you'd go for one of those air headed society ladies - not my boy, no sir! He wants a chick with brains." He smiled proudly while Peter covered his lemon festooned chest with his arms and blushed. Geeze - his dad was here and he was wearing a dress, how humiliating was that?

"Hello, Mr Venkman." Egon's deep, mellow voice diverted the excited little man's attention away from his blushing son. Egon handed a lab coat to Peter that he had intended to slip into himself, then reached over to shake Charlie's hand. Peter slipped the coat on gratefully. "It is not Mz Melnitz who is to carry your grandson, sir. I am."

Charlie looked up, then looked up some more. He blinked in surprise. "So," he began, uncertainly, "you're one of those bull dyke lesbians that dress up as men, huh? But Peter's won ya over to the other side. Love turned the tide, sort of thing. Well, good for you, little miss!" Charlie pulled the blond into a tight hug. Egon squeaked and Peter tugged urgently at his dad's arm.

"Dad, let go!"

"Now son, I'm not going to try and steal your little woman away." Charlie patted Egon affectionately on the butt. The scientist's face remained perfectly calm, but his nostrils flared just the tiniest bit and Winston rushed over to put a pacifying, claiming arm around his waist then firmly steered him free of Mr Venkman's over friendly attentions.

"Uh, Egon has to rest now, Mr V. Why don't you go visit with Peter in his office, he's just brought a new paper shredder I know he wants to show you. Janine might even bring you some coffee."

The secretary's poisonous look told him the likelihood of that and Winston sighed, why did everything have to be complicated? Luckily Charlie didn't need to be lured with coffee, he was as addicted to gadgets as Peter was and followed his son happily towards his office.

***

"Dad." Peter perched himself on the corner of his desk and watched his father.

Charlie Venkman was looking back at him with bright and excited eyes. Nothing new there, Charlie was always excited about something, usually about money. Dressed in a rumpled brown suit with blue shirt and a red 'lucky dice' tie he was the poster child for used car salesmen everywhere.

Venkman senior's hair was carefully combed to one side in an attempt to soften the impact of his growing bald spot. Peter self-consciously touched his own full brown thatch and sighed.

"Yes son?" Charlie encouraged him, and it took a second for the younger Venkman to collect his scattered thoughts.

"Its about Egon, Pop. He isn't a lesbian. He isn't a cross dresser, non of us are, this was just Janine's feeble idea of disguises to get us past the media circus out there. Egon isn't a hermaphrodite, which means somebody born with both sets of reproductive organs, Egon isn't any kind of a woman. Egon's a man, dad. He's carrying a child - and yes, its mine - but it was placed inside him magically. You have no idea the revolting thing he has to do to keep it there..."

Peter saw his father's eyes bulge at the possibilities, the Venkman imagination tended to run on certain predetermined tracks.

"No, dad! He has to eat slime. Great, quivering bowl fulls of...Yuk." Peter shivered all over. Charlie made an 'Oh, I get it' face and relaxed. His son turned serious again. "What I'm trying to say here is...I'm gay. I'm in a gay relationship with Egon and, well, I want you to know that."

Peter braced himself as the usually affable senior Venkman bit his lip and looked worried. "Who else knows?" his dad eventually asked. "I'm assuming your doctor, somebody told that mob out side the door. You're going to need a good spin on this son, I know a family rights activist in Atlanta that could come down and help you out...what, what is it?"

"Uh, you did hear me say gay right?" Peter asked tentatively.

"Of course I did. But that's unimportant, so long as you are both happy. And it doesn't affect any custody case some cretin right wing group throws at us. There are some terrible things that can happen to a child in a custody battle. We've got to avoid the ones that will drag on, that we won't win. If that means moving Ghostbusters, I think you may have to do it. Just see how people feel about it then, if their Ghostcatchers are gone from town, eh!"

"Yeah, that's right, Pop." Peter gave his dad a curious, guarded look. What was the old man up to? He was missing a chance to be melodramatic and make much of the sacrifices he'd made to bring up this viper at his breast. This was so unlike him, nasty thoughts of 'insider' book deals and interviews stared pushing there way to the front of his mind. Was that what this visit was about?

Charlie had seen that look of suspicion in his son's eyes all to often, it was usually well deserved. Some how he had to make him see that this was different. That this was about family, about learning from the mistakes of the past. If anyone had mistakes to learn from, Charlie Venkman was it, he'd written the book. He had advice and he wanted to share it, before it became to late.

"Son, this is important. Your Egon's willing to eat slime for this kid, that says something. That says a lot. I've always liked your science friends, they don't like me, which is a good start. I managed to win Ray over, but Winston and Spengler, never. You...you look after them. That's what family is about."

Charlie got up and went to study a picture on Peter's wall, a modernist piece in a heavy gilt antique frame. "I was afraid, son. I've been afraid for some time. After the childhood I gave you, I wasn't sure that 'family' would mean the same things to you that it does to most people. I," back turned towards his son Charlie let the tears well in his eyes. He couldn't, wouldn't let them fall. He'd been a con man to many years, his son would see them as just another ploy.

"Our past, yours and mine, its not been what it should. I heard the news on the radio about you having a kid and the thoughts started tumbling through my mind. About the past, about the future. I'm not asking for forgiveness, I'm not asking for a second chance, god knows I don't deserve one. I'm just saying - I've been there. My choices weren't always the best, but in my own way I made them for you. And I've seen how they have affected you over the years."

/Christmases missed,/ he was thinking. /Would you still hate that time of the year if it wasn't for your friends?/ "I can help. I think I can help. I want to help. No strings attached. For once, no cashing in on the publicity. This is a baby Venkman. For awhile there I didn't think there was going to be any more little Venkmans. But now there is, and I can't tell you how happy..." Charlie ran a shaking hand over his face, wiping at tears that had slipped free of his control.

"Dad?" Peter looked over at his father in concern. The old man was...old. He looked old and shrunken standing there, a man who had chased so many rainbows in his life, had reached for so many pots of gold, only to have them disappear into thin air.

"Pop, come look at this." Peter slid off the desk and went to the bottom file draw and unlocked it with his key. Inside where several books, all specially bound, the one he took out was enamelled in azure blue, with ruby red lettering. It read simply - Egon.

Peter flipped the oversized book onto the desktop and used the tasselled bookmark to go to the latest entries. Charlie came to stand by his side, emotions under control, but his eyes and nose were suspiciously pink still.

"These are the lab reports, and here," Peter pointed proudly and stepped back, "here are the ultra sounds."

"Wow." Charlie lent in to look at the grainy images. "So this is our kid, amazing. Looks like a blob, but a very personable blob, I'm sure."

Peter grinned. He noticed his dad admiring the scrapbook and decided a little boasting wouldn't hurt any.

"I got those made special by a client of ours. I've always kept mementos in scrap books like this, but they started looking a little shoddy after awhile. These are only the most recent ones, I have the older ones in storage until we build that library Ray wants."

"This is great, a work of art. Are all the images copies?" Charlie leafed back through the book, stopping to look more carefully at a picture of Peter and Egon sharing a tent on that Bigfoot case of theirs. A newspaper clipping sat neatly besides it, describing the disturbances and the bravery of the four Ghostbusters who 'Saw The Menace Off!'.

"Yeah, I copy everything then shrink it all to fit the page. I got copies of Egon's degrees, his science awards, the certificate he got in that chocolate eating contest...everything." There were some bad memories in that book too, like the time Egon left them to go work for his Uncle Cyrus.

Charlie nodded and shut the book. Peter probably hadn't seen it, but the whole thing was a typical Venkman sappy moment caught in print. There were even little cut out love hearts next to the images of Egon Peter liked best. He felt almost like a voyeur, peeking in at his son's secret fantasy love life.

"It goes back in here?" Charlie opened the draw and reverently slipped the book back into place, next to the fat volume that had to be Peter's own scrapbook. He couldn't help noticing, and Peter couldn't help noticing him noticing, the other tattered scrapbook tucked next to his. The one with the name Charlie Venkman scribbled on the spine with a felt tip pen. One corner was charred black, where Peter had been going to burn it after that incident in Peru, but Egon and the others had talked him out of it.

The guys had nearly died on that expedition. The father and son looked up into each other's eyes at the same time, with the same memory. Something had been lost between them on that day. Something that might never come back.

"It's a terrible thing to lose your child." Mr Venkman said sorrowfully. "You and Egon, you gotta be careful. Bring 'em up good, teach 'em right. Don't give no loony groups an excuse to take your kid away. There are a lot of busy bodies out there, Peter. Watch yourself." /Don't be like me/ he said with his eyes. /Always be there, as much as possible. Be there./

"I will dad." Peter answered him. "I will."

***

"Wow, I don't believe it." Peter hopped into bed besides Egon, still shaking his head in amazement. "I wore a dress in front of my dad and the sky didn't cave in. Life is a lot more weird than I ever gave it credit for."

"Mmmm." Egon agreed, glancing over at the carefully shut bunkroom door before laying aside the book he had been reading, taking off his glasses and sliding further down under the covers. Extending one hand he sought out and found one of Peter's hands and clasped it. He brought it up and lightly kissed the back, then settled their linked hands over his heart and turned to regard his curious bedmate.

"You know, Peter, that if you have any sexual needs, I won't be offended if you ask me to help you express them." His deep voice rumbled warmly in Peter's ear and the other man felt the hair on his arms stand up. He'd never heard Egon sound so...sexy.

"Oh my god!" He gasped, looking at his friend with wide eyes. "I've been trying to think of a way of saying that to you for ages, but couldn't think of a way that didn't sound like I was trying to talk you into sex. How'd you do that? You never cease to amaze me, you know?"

Egon looked at him in the half-light of the reading lamp and smiled his secretive smile. "You want to pleasure me, doctor Venkman?" he asked in a smooth way that had Peters neck hairs standing up as well.

"Yeah, whatever you want," he said huskily.

"Very well. Could you roll onto your side then, please?"

"Uh, what do you have in mind?" Peter sounded vaguely worried.

"For once I would like to be the one who goes to sleep holding 'you', Peter." Egon told him lightly.

"Oh. Yeah, sure." Peter wriggled onto his side as Egon reached to turn off the light, an odd pang of disappointment tweaking his heart. Didn't Egon want him that way? And, worse thought, didn't he like being held?

Long arms slid around him and Peter's more practical mind took over. Egon did like to be held, but there was something about holding another person that made you feel good too. Wasn't that why he himself woke each morning with both arms and legs wrapped round Egon's long frame, his chin hooked over Egon's shoulder, holding the man as close as was humanly possib...oh. Oh! Was that Egon's hand he felt running down his chest, dipping under his pj pants and then stroking him with firm, easy strokes? Couldn't be.

But it was. And Egon continued to hold him and stroke him, long fingers doing their devilish work. It didn't take long for doctor Venkman to succumb to their enchantment, he had been 'on edge' for months now and time and again their attempts at nookie got scuttled. Not this time. In very short order he was cumming, gasping out a yodeled wail of surprise.

He threw his head back, narrowly missing headbutting Egon and ending up with his head cradled besides his lovers instead.

"Did you like that?" Egon inquired mildly, his voice oddly breathless and deep.

"Ungh," was all Peter could reply.

"Well, it was a start. We shall work on it as we go." Egon reassured him, then turning his head slightly he sucked at Peter's ear.

"Mmwa, ungh!" Peter coughed, his eyes crossing a little. Then Egon did something with his free hand, and Peter's mind dribbled out his ears and left the building.

**

"It sure was nice of Egon to arrange for the security guys to pick up all this stuff for our monster marathon night." Ray enthused, popping open another packet of chips.

"Mm." agreed Winston, his mouth full of hotdog. Then, after a hurried swallow - "Die tentacled being, die!"

"Oh, cool. Chainsaw action! Giant Calamari for everyone." Ray smiled. On the TV blobs of goo and ribbons of slime filled the screen. For several moments the sound of busy chainsaws and munching Ghostbusters were the only noises in the firehouse.

Then an advert came on and Ray jumped to his feet and headed for the door.

"Ray, where are you going." Winston asked, not bothering to look around. Ray stopped and stood still, looking guilty.

"I, ah, left my Dopey Dog in the bunk room and the next movie is kind of scary, so I thought..."

"Ray, sit down."

Shoulders drooping Ray slouched back and dropped into his seat. They watched an advert for feminine hygiene products together in silence.

"Aren't you curious what they're doing up there?" Ray finally asked.

"Nope." Winston answered, taking a sip of his cool drink. "If you really want to know I'll buy you a book on the subject. Now eat your popcorn while its still hot."

"You'd really do that for me?" Ray asked, eyes shinning.

"I really would." Winston told him, edging the popcorn bowl over his friends way. Ray smiled happily at him, he really only wanted to satisfy his curiosity, not to perv on his friends. Zed understood that. Winston was a good friend.