By Fire Frog.

The Ghostbusters sat in the chairs normally reserved for customers along the wall of the fire house. A crowd of lawyers gathered on one side of them, a gang of social workers on the other. Between these two highly worked up groups stood one slightly frazzled judge and two of the police services top brass. All of them were talking.

From a distance it probably sounded as if a fox had just got into the chicken house; indignant squawks, snarled responses and general verbal mayhem. Tulley, Alanna Wolff and Jeff Byrd were doing their vocal best to out 'volume' the rest of them, but even the Lawyers of the Macabre couldn't shout down so many determined opponents.

Why Ghostbusters Central currently sounded like a farmyard soap opera was due to the delivery of several criminal allegations against them. Serious allegations of rape, mind control and possible domestic violence, which the police were legally obliged to look into. Even being famous heroes couldn't stop you from being investigated, and the Real Ghostbusters agreed with that in principle, if not in this particular instance.

As the Ghostbusters couldn't make their way out of the building to face investigation, (the gathering mob and Egon's 'delicate state' being cited as reasons,) the law had decided to come to them. Relocating and limiting the law party had not put the judge in a happy frame of mind. She was, in fact, quite ready to hurl the entire entourage out the window and listen to what the Ghostbusters had to say in private, but that was not sanctionable.

Egon also wasn't feeling kindly towards his fellow man, nor fellow woman either. Indeed was he wasn't feeling particularly 'delicate' at all, quite the reverse, he would have welcomed the chance to kick some serious ass.

They were quite close to finishing the Stargate and he really wanted to get back to it. The mechanics of the thing were exceedingly fascinating. All this fuss, the accusations and rhetoric, were interfering with their schedule, how was he expected to get anything done with all these interruptions? He fidgeted restlessly, not even settling when Peter rested a calming hand on his arm.

A shrill whistle split the air and everybody was obliged to quiet down. The judge had finished gathering her notes and rapped on the floor loudly with one heel to make sure of every ones attention.

"It has been brought to our attention," the judge began sternly, but abruptly stopped, her eyes fixed on a reflective hub cap hanging on the wall. With slow deliberation she turned around and the others looked behind her to see what had caught the woman's eye.

Lights. Tiny pinpoints of light floated into the room, more and more of them, getting bigger and brighter as they closed in. Electricity crackled through the room and several of the fire houses alarms went off at once. Seated at her desk Janine shut them off, gaping in wonder at the swarming iridescent specks.

"What the..." she began, and suddenly it was raining hailstones inside the building.

The brief yet painful shower ended and the onlookers found the points of light had moved in much closer to where they were. Much closer. One light moved in to hover before where Peter and Egon sat.

It quickly grew, from palm sized to breadbox, to...seven foot of shimmering, glorious fairy woman. Her long golden hair was caught up in an intricate filigree crown, showing off her slender pointed ears. The cat pupil-ed green eyes blinked and the diaphanous wings shimmered. She placed one satin booted foot upon the earth and the sound of a thousand wine glasses breaking all at once, very far away, tingled through the hall.

"The Fairy Queen," breathed Ray in amazement. She nodded in an abstract yet regal way, her eyes never leaving Peter's.

"There has been a misunderstanding," she said. All around the room the crash of glassware was repeating itself as the sparks of light turned into fairy warriors and attendants. The hall became very full, very quickly.

The fairy Queen's voice had chimed oddly, a cross between pipemusic and summer rain. They found it hard to listen to and interpret, but the Ghostbusters understood her clearly, they had after all had some practice.

"What sort of misunderstanding?" Winston demanded suspiciously.

"Something has occurred for which you need an explanation. We have created a child, Doctor Venkman - you and I."

Silence filled the hall. The hail from earlier had melted and cold water sent shivers up the onlookers spines.

"Peter?" Winston grit out, his eyes slitted dangerously.

"How is that possible?" Ray asked at the same time.

"Uh..." Peter moved his eyes to Egon, giving the silent man a stricken look. "It was my diversion. You know, when we had to grab that diamond and..."

"You didn't use protection?" Winston demanded.

"Sure, I always carry some in my work uniform for those quick nookies between ghosts. Come on, I didn't think it would matter, we were having an inter-species tryst and I thought that would keep us safe." Peter snapped. "Look, Queenie," he turned to fix the fair haired woman with hard eyes, "you sure the sprogs mine?"

"Have you not checked with your technology?" she asked.

"How the heck could I do that? I didn't even know you were in the family way!" Peter exclaimed, standing up and throwing his arms wide to show his confusion. "And the mom generally has to be here for those kinds of things to work."

The Queen looked taken aback. Frowning she turned and beckoned to a spark of light that had not as yet given up its inhabitant. The light bobbed over and an ugly little bogel tumbled out. The warty, knobby, wood skinned creature was incongruously dressed in a great tassel of silken bows.

"Locklan, you did deliver the child here?" the Queen asked as it got to its feet, revealing its stubby 2foot height.

"Er, my lady," Locklan dusted itself down, then stood uneasily moving from foot to foot, obviously wishing itself somewhere else. "As I was trying to tell you before we came through, I did deliver the child, but a monstrous creature with 'horrible' teeth and a huge, questing tongue chased me away before I could speak with the host, I barely escaped with my life!"

"Slimer!" Ray groaned.

"Host?" Egon had a nasty sinking feeling and he placed his hands over his stomach defensively.

"Locklan! This you should have told to me! The host must now be found and cared for, she..."

"Ah, what host?" Peter raised a finger of inquiry.

"A halfling child can not be carried by Gumberlines as a full blood fairy would be. We fay do not carry our own children, but foster them with hosts until they have the magic to size change developed. Then they transfer back to their mothers. Those of fairy are not built to hold growing children, we would die.

But as our child is part human, Peter, I sent her here with my trusted companion Locklan to be placed in a female of your house."

"Ah." Peter said blankly.

"The child was not delivered to one you know?" The tall fairy queen shrank in on herself - literally. She diminished in size until she barely reached Peter's chin, tears sparkled in her cold green eyes. "But, she was to be my last child, my heir. My daughter Mela has renounced the throne and the King is past his breeding age. We - I - wanted another baby..." Two tears fell, shimmered and changed to diamonds as they touched the floor. Hard are the tears let fall by the fairy monarchy.

"So why the hell did you send the kid with some lackey?" Winston demanded.

"How did you send it?" Ray asked.

"And, er, what would be the consequences of placing the child in, say, a host of the wrong gender?" Egon was remembering a vivid dream he had had, where a nasty class five had plunged its fist into his belly and Slimer, of all creatures, had come to his rescue.

"That would not have...oh. Oh dear." The Queen looked at Egon thoughtfully, while her body once more grew in stature. Then a tiny smile curved her lips and she crouched down besides him and placed her hand over the one he had resting on his belly.

"Hello, little one!" She whispered joyfully, then looked into Egon's uncertain blue eyes. "You have no need to fear, Egon Spengler. It will be uncomfortable for you, but no harm will come to you or to the child from this. The Gumberlins, our usual hosts, perform this service for a given family, and it matters not if they be male or female. But why, I wonder, did Locklan chose you?" She turned to pin her companion with questioning eyes.

"It's got longer hair than the others. The chamberlain said the women have longer hair." Locklan whined. "It was tending a garden, the women tend to gardens, the chamberlain said. And the Venkman was close to it, they exchanged loving words! I thought it was a woman, majesty! Humans all look alike to me!"

The ugly thing shrugged thin shoulders and looked as innocent as it could. The truth was it had been scared of the noisy, smelly mortal realm and had wanted to get out of there as soon as it could. The first human that vaguely fit the description 'female' had been glamoured asleep, the baby fairy in it's tiny magical egg thrust into place, then Locklan Theodora Whinopsy was outta there. That ugly, nosy ghost that had shown up had been too much of a close call.

"What is a Gumberlin?" Ray suddenly asked, worried that the bogel was going to get into trouble and wanting to divert everyone away from it's mistake. Poor little thing, it looked so sorry.

"They are of the fay, though in your world there exists kin of their's, an early, primitive race that has gone back to animalistic ways. You call these creatures horned toads," explained the Queen.

"What, like that big one you had in your bedroom?" Peter asked, then cringed and shot Egon a worried look.

"Indeed, that was Nimul, the Gumberlin of the Royal family for many centuries. She was awaiting the time when my husband and I created my last child. Alas, a war with the forces of Darkness broke out along our borders and I went to fight it before I realised I had conceived with you. And only a human host can carry a child with human blood, so Nimul could not do the job appointed her. With the battle going poorly and sections of my own family making a bid for power in the unstable environment I sent the child to the only people who could look after her. You."

"So, uh, this war thing, is it over?" Winston asked, looking over at the stairway cautiously.

"No, my husband leads the fighting still, although we are close to victory. I had to come and see that all was going well. The political climate at home is stable once more and we can take you," green eyes locked onto Egon's blue ones, "to be cared for in the royal palace. An entire wing is being refitted for your comfort.

Also, our sorcerers felt a thinning of the wall between our worlds and they concluded that you were trying to contact us via a gate. Gateways are dangerous things, Ray Stantz." Her cold cat eyes turned to pin the youngest Ghostbuster in their unearthly light. "You never know who might come through one. We decided to come to you first and prevent the gate being finished. My sorcerers are upstairs dismantling it now."

"Hey!" Ray complained, but then he gave her a thoughtful stare. "How did you guys get here then, without a gate? Did you use the world pool like the genie did?"

"We used the mushroom ring growing in the garden downstairs." The queen told him serenely.

"That is a scientific specimen collection, not a garden." Egon pointed out indignantly.

"We can provide many fungi specimen for you to observe in the garden we will build for you at the palace. The comfort of Peter Venkman's and my child's host will be the entire royal estates sole purpose."

"Peter and...you mean the baby isn't Egon's after all?" Ray asked sadly.

"Of course she is! It is one of the blessings of having hosts. Through it our children can acquire extra abilities. Had my daughter been hosted by a Gumberlin she would have been well versed in higher levitation magics, which is how the Gumberlin maintain their civilisation."

/No opposable thumbs/ Peter thought glibly, /Evolution is a bitch./

"By having a human father, and a human host," the Queen continued, "our daughter will be blessed with human magics, like precognition. This will be a distinct advantage for one who is to be Queen of the Fairy Realm."

"The baby does have his DNA...sorta," advanced a social worker, proffering a file. "This tri donor pregnancy does explain the irregularities we found in the results, and the more arcane features of some of the genes."

"And we thought the extra spirals were because of the slime he'd been eating." Ray grinned. Winston elbowed him sharply in the arm, but it was too late, the Social workers were looking upset.

"Ah, yes." The Fairy Queen stood up and looked to one of her attendants. He rushed forwards and drew a flaming circle in the air, then looked through it at Egon. He shook his head and went to whisper in her majesties pointed ear.

"Mm. The human body lacks the magical energy that impregnates a Gumberlin's, so I had Locklan cast a gees that would compel the magical creatures of this world to supply the host with their energy. My physician says you are low on it still and he would like you to eat some additional magic beans."

The physician produced a velvet bag full of large glass looking beans with a kind of ethereal fire burning at the heart of each of them. Winston took the bag gingerly before Ray could, worried what kind of casserole the younger man would make out of them. "Ghosts are magical?" he asked as he slipped the bag into his pocket.

"Occult energy and mystical energy are two sides of the same coin." Ray told him, his eyes following the bag of beans longingly.

"I am sorry if this has caused any confusion." The fairy Queen said.

"Confusion." Egon's voice dropped to a dangerously low tone. "Yes, you could say that being made pregnant via supernatural means caused us some confusion...or," and he stood up out of his chair, glaring eye to eye with the startled royalty, "or you could say it has been damned inconvenient, an invasion of my privacy and a reason for me to doubt my own and others sanity."

Egon's jaw clenched, the muscles working as he kept in the more vitriolic things his genteel upbringing would not permit him to say.

"Excuse me." The Judge finally broke in, moving forwards aggressively. "But is this woman claiming to have impregnated a citizen of the United States without his knowledge or consent? Because we have rules about such things here." 

"It was done with the best interests of the child in mind." The fairy Queen stated quietly. "Egon Spengler is the fathers beloved - one of Peter's cherished house hold. Locklan was not to know human male from female - I take responsibility for that, and for sending an unarmed Bogle into this strange realm. I should have provided attendants and guards to insure that the host could be properly prepared."

She had turned to face Egon again, as if her words were solely for him. "I do apologise, but beg you to understand, there was little time for me to act. There was battle raging and I produced the birthing pearl unexpectedly. Once delivered from its mother the pearl will last only so long before it begins to dry out and become brittle. Sending Locklan was my only hope. As is your favour, Egon Spengler - now. Come back to my land where we will care for you and keep you safe and in comfort such as you have never experienced before..."

Egon felt a subtle yet persistent tug at his subconscious, urging him to accede to the Queens demands. It was the merest hint of a touch, yet he felt it as the twining of an oily chain around and through his thoughts. But a Ghostbuster was used to such tricks.

"I do not wish to go," he stated clearly.

"But..." the Queen started, when with a rush the combined forces of the lawyer/social services team descended on her and began firing off demands, such as child maintenance, a surrogate pension, the covering of all court/medical/interdimensional correspondence. Plus an agreement not to see the defendant without at least two lawyers and a human wizard present. And the list went on.

It was well into the night when the fairy delegation returned through the mushroom ring and back to their own realm. The humans had blocked them from taking Egon now, but they were preparing to wage a long challenge.

Which is what the blond scientist feared. While he was ready to resist the fairy compulsions - Peter, Ray and Winston were already half way ready to believe he should be stuck up in some tower somewhere being fed chocolate and having his feet rubbed. Well, it wasn't going to happen!

Especially not after the rather touchy subject of previous fairy/human matings came up. Apparently in the distant past (just how distant they were not told) fairy nobles had been instructed to raid the mortal realm and steal away women in hopes of gaining the power of precognition for the royal lines.

Some of these women had died when the halfling babies created pearls about themselves, which had then changed in size and caused their human mothers to haemorrhage to death. The remaining women had committed suicide, each and every one.

The last to die had caught the fancy of the fairy lord who had kidnapped and raped her, and he had wrapped her round with spells of binding and complacency, yet still she had found a way to end her own life.

Egon had felt the gaze of several of the Queens guards upon him then. And he had known, known, that should he put one foot in Fairy he would be enchanted, wrapped in velvet chains and never allowed so much as to take a walk in any fungi garden, made especially for him or not.

The encounter was not entirely without an upside, however. The social services had dropped their charges and were now fully in the Ghostbusters corner. And a Fairy sorcerer had cast a spell of warding that had made their day. The sorcerer had been granted temporary immunity whilst he cast a spell in order to ensure the safety of the Host ie Egon, and Peter had smiled evilly as all the recording gear in the immediate area had turned into so much expensive, chunky stone paperweights. And they would stay that way for a year and a day.

The sorcerers had wanted to turn the 'reporters' to stone for a year and a day, a fact Peter had taken much glee in passing along when he confronted the press himself. In moments the firehouse was a no go zone, the cameramen and other assorted leaches threatening law suites as they left, Peter just smiling widely and showed them his teeth.

As a parting gift the Fairys sent for and gave to Egon a large bound volume of illustrations. It had been made long ago by a Fairy Lord to give to his mortal lover. The woman had volunteered to host and nurse a Fairy babe after her own child had died. This had been the way mortal women had been traditionally approached in the even farther distant past - lured away whilst still in mourning for their recent bereavements. The book held a pictorial representation of what a mortal was to expect while carrying a Fairy child. It made sense, the women would not have been able to read their own language - let alone Fairy script!

Ray and Winston were poring over the book now, flipping pages excitedly.

"Wow, look at this! The baby pearl thing just magically floats out of the hosts body, and then the Fairy parents take it and...what are they doing?" Ray asked.

"Incubating it. I wonder how long that takes? These little season changing picture grams might or might not correspond with human seasons - my guess is they work off Fairy weather patterns. These flowers they've drawn are real nice." Winston added, admiring the small summer pictures, showing a gorgeous garden scene filled with luscious flowering trees, bushes and shrubs.

"Yeah. Well, looks like you wont have to have a caesarean after all, Egon." Ray called to his friend, happy he wouldn't have to go through the painful operation.

"Mmmm." Egon was sitting in front of the Rec rooms computer, surfing the net for instances of Fairy/elfin kidnapping for nursing purposes. There were quite a few myths about just that, most occurring in the northern hemisphere, long ago.

"The baby's pearl - that's what the Queen was talking about earlier." Winston speculated. "A Fairy baby starts with the one its mom provides it with and then builds one that helps it stay okay with the different Hosts. Look at all the different types, those toad things aren't the only surrogates they use. Geeze, I wonder what kind of cravings you'll have when the second shell gets started."

"Sulphur and cabbages - look it shows it here." Ray pointed at the books.

"That looks more like a rose." Winston commented.

"Could be. Maybe the fairy's grow giant roses especially for eating." They went back to flipping through the book.

"Okay, they're gone." Peter entered from the stairs, rubbing his hands together with glee. "I'm gonna make a shopping run. Any body want anything? Egon?"

"No, I'm fine." Egon answered.

"You sure? How about some Twinkies?" Peter asked.

"And Ringdings - he's almost out." Winston pipped in.

"He's fond of Rockyroad." Ray added.

"Okay - got it!" Peter fished his wallet out from the mess on the coffee table and headed back down. He made a slight detour to kiss Egon on the temple before he left. If he'd cared to look he would have noticed that Egon's hands were clenched into tight fists on top of the keyboard.

***

Later that night Egon was still plugging away at the keyboard, researching as many mythical abductions and related topics as he could.

"Sorry I forgot the Rockyroad." Peter whispered as he came up behind him and kissed the back of his neck. Under the brunettes hands he could feel that his lover's shoulders were hunched with tension.

"I will survive." Egon told him, typing in another string of search inquiries.

"Well, at least from now on we'll be able to send the guard old Queenie is sending over tomorrow out for snacks in the middle of the night. Our bodyguards won't do that. Hope the legal shit gets sorted out in time, those security guys are costing us a fortune."

The sound of typing was his only reply.

"Egon, it's time to call it a night."

"In a minute, Peter." Came the distracted reply.

"Sweetheart, my hair is on fire."

type, type, type - pause - "Apply water to it." type, type, type.

'Blip.'

The computer screen went dead and Egon blinked at it in bemusement.

"It's been a long day." Peter said gently, dangling the power cord from one hand. "You need your sleep. I'm sure the Fairy physician would advise it."

Something shifted in the back of Egon's eyes then, but Peter couldn't quite place what it was. His scientist was still a little edgy about the physical the Fairy's had given him, even though all the Ghostbusters had stayed in the room and none of the Fairy doctoring group had physically touched him.

The dark look had been only fleeting and Peter dismissed it quickly from his mind, more interested in getting Egon safely tucked up in bed than anything else. He would have done well to ask what the look had been about, but he didn't and so missed his opportunity.

***

Early the next morning Egon Spengler walked out the front door of the fire house with a gym bag over one shoulder. The guards offer to escort him but the tall scientist assures them that he has 'other' eyes watching over him and moves off down the street. When he comes to the corner he stops and drops something on the ground. It is later discovered to be marigold petals.

***

"Why Marigold petals?" Winston asks. The remaining Ghostbusters are gathered round Janine's desk, just now aware that Spengler has given them the slip.

A careful examination of Egon's wardrobe had revealed a missing gym bag, a pair of trousers (black) a shirt (white) a cap (sporting the Blue Jay's emblem) a pair of joggers, several sets of underwear and socks. The scientist's wallet was gone as well.

"They'll stop the Fairy's from being able to track him." Ray told them glumly.

"Well, try his computer." Winston suggested. The raced over to the missing scientists beloved Marcia and Peter logged on with Egon's passwords.

"Check the recent e-mail." Winston directed, "Maybe he booked a bus or something."

"Good idea." Peter opened the mail application. "Damn, it's been deleted."

"Check the trash." Winston suggested.

"What?" Peter gave him an odd look, so Zed bumped him out the computer chair and soon had the files he was looking for.

"Percy!" cried Ray. "Look, there's one from his friend! Check it out Winston."

The e-mail started out with what was obviously a snip from an earlier post from Egon.

>would suggest that I am homosexual. I find I can no longer define myself by...

The snip ender and Percy's mail began.

I always suspected, you know. But my word, this is good timing. My Uncle, about who's passing I wrote you last month, has left me with a rather large collection of Greek homoerotic artwork. As you know, space here is at a premium, so perhaps you would like to have them. Grecian art is not my bag - I prefer the Aztec asthetic.

And I'm afraid I have to agree with your mother, Egon. Peter Venkman is a handsome chap, no doubt - but hardly a true scientist. Why not try dating someone like that Sam Bekett fellow?

But if Peter makes you happy then by all means - follow you heart.

Your friend in Science
Percy.

"Scientist - scientist! What is it with these people? I do have a doctorate or two you know!" Peter muttered darkly.

"Keep looking," Ray urged. "There's got to be a clue in there somewhere."

There wasn't. It was past midnight when Peter finally went to bed, intending to catch a few minutes sleep before continuing the local search. And it was there, under his pillow that he found the letter.

"Dear Peter," he read downstairs to Ray, Zed and Janine. "I am dreadfully sorry to put you through this panic, but I believe it to be necessary in order to insure my departure. I fear the Fairy court has had an influence upon you all. My departure is also prompted by, and you will forgive me the comment, everyone's 'incessant nagging' about what I can and can't do while in a pregnant state.

I shall take myself off to a place of safety and call you when my time is closer at hand. Please try not to worry. Slimer is with me. Love Egon."

"Ah shit," Winston moaned, then turned and thumped Peter on the arm. "I told you not to hound him!"

"Me? Who said he couldn't move those library books upstairs?"

"Who made him eat that broccoli when he said he was full?" Winston countered.

"You all chose his clothes for him like he was a little kid!" Janine accused.

"Stop!" Ray yelled. Everyone turned to look at him. "Geeze, listen to us! No wonder Egon left. We've been ruling his life. I don't know if we deserve to get him back - even if we find out where he is."

Silence met his words as the others realised he was right.

***
Egon left the secondhand shop and checked his outline in a shop window. He now wore baggy clothes in the latest young person style, a little too young for his age - but many older people did unwisely follow the younger trends.

There was a name for such people, the teenage sales assistant had told him, it was 'sad'. Egon had not been overwhelmed by the youngsters tact.

Still, he looked respectable enough and his thickening waist line was disguised. To further camouflage himself Egon had earlier visited a hair salon and invested in a dye job.

With his outline and colouring masked he had an adequate disguise. He headed for the nearest coach hire and booked himself on the next tour that left the city. He had two hours to wait before boarding a bus with twenty-four other people, mostly senior citizens.

They were soon on their way to tour the *, stopping for excursions at historic or cultural sites, for lunch and dinner at scenic spots and overnight stays at luxurious hotels.

The lure of the open road did not entice Egon. No rest stops and roach hotels for him, he was going for comfort all the way.

At the first stop he purchased a camera to document his travel, finding it a distraction from his need to be fiddling with his ecto meter or other, more exigent pieces of equipment.

"You know, you remind me of Elvis," said the little old lady sitting next to him. Egon smiled. They spent a very pleasant trip talking about the King.

***

The next few weeks were the worst of Peter's life. The team debated putting out a missing persons ad, but were scared the media would turn it into a man-hunt.

They did employ a very discreet detective, but she came up blank after tracking Egon to a second-hand store in Queens.

After that it was sit and wait, endure the flack from Doctor Turnbull and Egon's mother and the hysterics of the fairy court.

There was almost an incident when Peter threatened to blast the Queen if she didn't remove the persuasive spells that had been cast on them. It was with a sense of betrayal that he and the others felt the spells bindings disappear. He had secretly hoped that that part of Egon's reasoning had been paranoid fear.

But it was not, and he began to fully appreciate Egon's feelings of being trapped in a noose.

After much discussion the Ghostbusters decided to run some adverts in the papers. They worked on the final draft carefully, hoping it would be anonymous enough to not raise suspicions yet specific enough to catch Egon's eye.

They put the adverts in every paper they could contact, then waited by the phone.

***

Egon sat quietly under the shade of a bridge. He was a little ways from the nearest town, having decided to walk in from the quality farm stay accommodations the last bus tour had dropped him off at.

He had planned to stay there several nights, but the ferocious inquisitiveness of the farm manager had driven him forth.

It was quiet beneath the bridge, the concrete arches muffled the traffic and industrial farming noises. A slow moving stream ran through it, the water barely covered his ankles when he crossed it. He could see the rocks and pebbles of the stream's bottom clearly, and a shy crustacean that was busy picking choice morsels from the rocks.

Egon glanced at the paper in his hand again, re reading the full page advert.

Dear Spellslinger, forgive us, the gees has been broken, the self-flagellation performed. Please come home, love, respect and twinkies await you. Fondest regards - the Three Wiser Men.

Humph - Spellslinger had been his roll playing name when the others bullied him into playing Dungeons And Dragons. So this was probably meant for him.

There was an apology, some grovelling, and a reassurance that the Fairy Queen's hold on them was gone, and it ended with a plea. Most satisfactory. He folded the paper and opened his knapsack to tuck it safely inside.

"That's a nice looking bag," came a voice from outside the bridges isolated calm. Egon looked up and saw two men standing outside in the sunlight looking back at him. They wore what he categorised as cocky sneers. Most unpleasant.

"I would not attempt to antagonise me today, gentlemen." Egon warned softly, doing up the straps of his knapsack and standing up. He swung the bag onto his shoulders then moved into the light to face the still smiling men calmly.

"Oh, we think it is." The taller of the two moved in to grab their victims arm.

"Slimer." Said Egon mildly. From the shadows under the bridge came a noise like wet flesh hitting the ground.

"Somebody back there?" demanded the shorter man, gesturing with the knife that had materialised in his hand.

"Not someone any more." Egon replied gently. "Something."

The shadows lengthened and swayed, then split open to ooze a stream of green ectoplasm as if it were blood. Into the sunlight coalest the dripping corpse of a woman. Her once lovely hazel eyes stared blankly above a mouth broken and twisted to one side. The congealed silt from the stream bottom slid in ropes from the shattered jaw and dribbled with the rest down the bloated white body. Hands with skeletal sharp tips reached for them and the two would be thieves turned and fled, screaming wildly.

Moving slowly the rotting zombie came to a halt at Egon's side. He had to look down to see her, she barely reached his elbow. She must have been in her early teens when she died, undoubtably a suicide that had leapt from the bridge above.

"When you are ready," he told her, "go towards the light."

The hazel eyes blinked and the corpse turned once more to the dark comfort under the bridge. The silt and pebbles of the streams bottom wrapped her in its embrace and she waited. Now was not her time.

"Thank you." Egon said to the green shadow that hovered at his shoulder. "We are going home now, Slimer."

"Home?" tears of joy shone in the little ghosts large orange eyes.

"Yes," said Egon firmly. "Home."

***

Peter carefully put the paintbrush to one side. He took a clean rag from his pocket and wiped at his eyes. He had just finished painting the spare room a pale pea soup green, with darker pea soup accents at windows, doors and lintel. The two bedside tables were mid pea soup green, with again the darker accents.

In the hall, still in their packing boxes, awaited paired green reading lamps in heavy silk that matched the curtains and the bedspread. The emperor sized bed awaited assembly, each pillar like leg balanced next to its brother, hidden under the mountain of filmy bed drapes.

"Egon's going to hate this." Janine opinioned from the doorway.

"Oh contraire," Peter told her, "Egon won't care. A bed is simply a place for my noble paramour to lay his weary head. A bedroom is but space to put said bed."

"So if he won't notice, why'd you go to all the trouble of doing it up in his favourite colour for?" she snipped, crossing her arms and leaning on the doorframe.

"Don't you have some typing to do?" Peter frowned, gathering up his painting utensils into a bucket to take outside and scrub.

"No, doctor Venkman, I'm finished for the day. I just came up here to see if you wanted anything from the shops. But as you're busy I'll just...."

"No, no - I'm not busy!" Peter put the bucket down and focused an attentive smile on the red head. "Can you get some turpentine, a roll of clothesline, some bread rolls and a tin of skinless tomatoes."

"Sure." Janine jotted the last thing down on the note pad she had whipped out and smiled in satisfaction. About to turn and leave she glanced over to see Peter standing there, looking hopelessly at the room.

"I was joking," she said, taking a half step into the room. "Egon's gonna love this."

"You sure?" For the first time Janine Melnits could say she looked into her bosses eyes and saw real fear there. Tentatively she walked over and placed a reassuring arm round his shoulders.

"I'm sure," she said, feeling Peter lean ever so slightly into her support. "I'm positive."

They stood that way for some time, the Ghostbuster and the Brooklyn secretary, comforting each other.

***

Egon's feet were killing him. He'd been on the bus for an hour now, forced to stand by an elderly gentleman who insisted he give up his seat to a middle aged lady that looked as if she could hurl scientists like javelins.

However, with the accusing eyes of the entire commuter conveyance upon him he had had to concede. Oh hurrah, chivalry was not dead. Thank goodness his stop was at last approaching.

His head felt somewhat light by the time he stepped down onto the pavement. The backpack appeared to have gained weight as well and his vision had begun the disturbing tendency of going grey at the edges - he had to rest. Spying a bench he dropped down onto it, not noticing that Slimer had slipped free and headed off at speed.