It was a clear and bright day. A strong wind blew from the sea, carrying the scent of salt water and diesel with it. It lifted strands of Egon's hair and whipped them about his head like tiny, angry snakes. The strands glowed in the strong sunlight as if made from metallic silk, white blond streamers that shimmered and shone.

It irritated him no end, but his companions, Peter and Winston, found it endearing. They kept sneaking peeks as they flanked the taller man on the long march from Ecto One, through the massive car park and towards the distant shopping complex. They had to work at keeping up with him though, anxious to get out of the wind Egon had lengthened his already long stride.

They had almost reached the safety of the air-conditioned shopping mecca when they became aware of a dispute between two youngish men. They were dressed alike in sagging black trousers and ripped black tops. The shouting had reached the point where action was imminent, one of them cocked his fist, and that was when Egon moved. One moment he was between Peter and Winston, the next he had the aggressor in a headlock and was twisting him away from the other man to throw him unceremoniously onto the ground.

"I do not know what your altercation was about gentlemen, but either continue it in a non violent manner, or simply walk away." Blazing blue eyes regarded them angrily.

The pair looked up at six foot four of annoyed blond scientist, noted the two extremely fit men who came to stand at his side, and decided retreat was the better part of valour. After the one who had been knocked down stood up the two men exchanged heated looks, then moved off in separate directions.

"Care to tell me why you decided to intervene in that little set to, Egon?" Peter asked sweetly. A anger lurked in his green eyes. It masked the surge fear that had washed over him when Egon had taken off to confront the two warring men.

"Yeah, it was none of our business. This is New York, they could have had friends waiting, a gang, it might have been some pick pocket scheme, you just can't tell these days." Winston shook his head, his own heart rate barely coming down from the 'excitement' of it all. Egon needed a leash.

"There is a young lady with an infant in her arms standing in close proximity to where the brawl would have taken place. Had an altercation broken out it is likely that she would have been jostled. I could not in all conscience let that occur." Egon adjusted his glasses and started to walk off, nodding briefly at the young woman he had mentioned as he did so. She stared back with wide and admiring eyes. Peter snorted indelicately.

"He walks blithely through a street gang fight without noticing it, but turns into the Lone Ranger when a baby's involved." he gripped to Winston.

"Yeah, but that's why we love him." Winston replied with a helpless shrug and turned to follow the scientist inside.

Peter glared at him. He did not need reminding that the handsome bisexual black man was his rival for the oblivious scientist's affections. In fact he had rather never have found out.

"Shut up, Winston." He muttered darkly and pushed past him to walk nearer to the object of his secret desire.

Winston groaned softly, he'd sparked Peter jealous streak again. Trouble, these guys were trouble, he'd always known that. Casting one last look at the still retreating forms of the two men Egon had separated, he hurried to catch up with his companions. He just hoped those hoods hadn't recognised who had bailed them up and took their thwarted rage out on Ecto.

...

They had made it without further incident into the complex, then over to the supermarket. Digging into his pocket Peter held up the three page shopping list he excavated from its depths and prepared to hand them out.

"I bags the vegetable isle." Egon sang, trying to grab the list from Venkmans hand. Peter held on grimly.

"Uh huh! No way, not after last time. We have to 'eat' the fruit and veggies we buy, not grow mould on them. And purchasing stuff pre mushed and fly-blown is a sneaky way of gaining free experiment components. I give you a budget for your science projects, if you go over it's your own fault." Peter tugged the list free and handed over another one. "Look, I gave you the sweet isle. I can't be any more generous than tha....t" He was talking to air, Egon had already headed off, visions of Twinkies floating in his minds eye.

"Sweet tooth Spengler strikes again." Peter sighed, than turned to Winston to hand over the second shopping list. "You don't mind doing the veggie isle, Zed? I can never tell if something's ripe or not, and Ray always gripes if the pumpkin isn't ready for stewing, or whatever it is he does with it."

Winston smirked as he held out his hand for the list. Peter was paradoxically one of the fittest, and one of the laziest, men he knew. The guy could cook, better than any of them, but he chose not to. He could drive pretty good too, but he never volunteered for the job. Only on a bust did he seem to come alive, appearing to be in six different places at once, taunting ghosts here, zapping them there, the guy was a real pro at it. A gold medallist Ghostbuster. Zed looked down at his list.

Hmm, Forrest Fresh toothpaste. That had to be for Ray. Okay, he'd start in the medicine chest isle. Toilet paper. Antiseptic. Cotton balls. Band-Aids. Relaxing bath crystals. Should he get pink? Yeah, why not, it'd drive Peter nuts. Another scrubbing mitt, they went through those like nobody's business, he'd better grab two. Jumbo sized shampoo, conditioner, No-Tangles spray - repeat by four as each of them used different hair products. And God forbid you should ever try using another guys hair care stuff in the firehouse, the injured party would be after you like a bloodhound on the trail of a mass murderer.

Next isle, baby food. Ray had figured out that Slimer liked the stuff and was using it as a special reward in experiments. Yuck.

Stuck on the end of the isle was a stand of men's underwear. Which reminded him, he'd better give Egon's jocks back to him soon, the guy had to be getting suspicious. After all, both he and Peter were taking them.

Not to do anything perverted with them, mind. Winston just like to slip a condom on and bunch the jocks around them, using them to slide up and back in a slow, steady rhythm. Oh yeah. He'd lean back and imagine he was rubbing himself up against Egon's underpants clad butt.

He was rudely awaken from this pleasant reverie by an older man pushing past him to snag a particularly vivid orange pair of boxers with a cutesy space alien making the peace sign on the front panel. Holy googly moogly, he was welcome to them!

Next isle. Fruit and Vegetables. Yeah, there's that. Tick that one off the list. Mmm, two of those. Uh huh, no way that was in season, probable stuffed full of preservatives. He'd get mangoes instead. Say, that pumpkin looked ripe enough, but the one next to it was bigger and only needed a little longer to be ready. Hell, he'd get the smaller one, Ray wasn't known for his patience.

Right, that looked like that. His trolley's basket was full, time to head for the checkout. Egon was already there, he'd slipped open the corner of a Twinkie packet and was already eating one of the golden snacks.

Winston had no idea how he got away with doing that. If 'he' tried it security would be on his ass like flies on jam. But the six foot plus scientist did it in plain sight, as if it was a normal thing to start opening packets before you paid for them and begin eating the contents. And he got away with it. Spengler magic.

Peter wouldn't be joining them for awhile, so Winston hooked up with Egon when he got through the checkout and they both went to get themselves a hot chocolate at the complexes coffee shop. Peter was a repressed compulsive shopper and to curb his problem he had wrestled his shopping habit down to a fine art. He scrutinised every item, read its labelling, even the stuff they brought regularly, because he said you never knew when a company might change its ingredients. Then he would compare contents verses price, brand rep and environmental impact. Then he'd debate with himself over which was the most pressing concern (price often won that one) and made his choice. It wasn't by accident he had the shortest list of the three. The others never complained, not if they wanted to get out of there by Christmas.

Winston pulled out the magazine he'd brought after spotting it in the checkout line and he and Egon began filling in the crosswords together. Egon was a master at the more peculiar words, Winston had the cultural questions down pat. Together they blitzed all nine of the magazines puzzles by the time Peter made his way towards them.

"Behold the returned hunter, his catch hauled before him, his mighty task done." Egon intoned solemnly.

"Stuff it, Spengs." Peter told him lightly, hauling himself and his trolley over and dropping down into a chair. Winston handed him the coke they had ordered for him and he guzzled it gratefully.

Just then an imp, dressed as one of the singing Von Trapp family, materialised on their table.

"Come-a-long to JoesLand,

It's got every thing you need!

There's pots and plants and mulch and

- things to deal with weed!"

The jig dancing imp sang enthusiastically, before flipping a card from a gardening supply shop onto the table and disappearing into a purple cloud of smoke. Egon and Winston looked at Peter with steely eyes.

"Hey, is that the time? We'd better..."

"Peter!" the others said in unison. Peter tried his best hangdog expression.

"I only hired out a few. After that thing with the ghost that wanted to be on TV, I thought, why not? And I don't use the ones we bust. I got Slimer to ask a few of his buddies if they knew anyone interested in advertising. I got quite a few replies." He grew more confident of his actions as he spoke. Hey, he was almost doing a public service, keeping ethereal types off the street. And they worked for peanuts, or rather, pizza. He was raking it in!

"We shall have to discus this, but later." Egon stood, obviously somewhat mollified by Peter's explanation, but still determined to have a chat with him about it later on.

"I guess it is a little public." Peter conceded, also standing.

"That is not my concern. The molecular rigidity of the Sherbet ice cream is." Egon nodded at his trolley.

"Oh yeah, melting ice cream rates well above any of 'my' ventures." Peter groused. The others ignored him and headed for car park. He shrugged and tagged along behind.

Once out of the buildings air-conditioning they wilted like celery left in the sun. Their trolleys gained weight by about twenty kilo's each and the distance they had parked Ecto had doubled itself at least. Valiantly they struggled on.

Winston was relieved to find their car still in one piece and spray paint free. He got behind the steering wheel after they had loaded the groceries and watched as Peter climbed in the back after Egon. Oh, this was going to be interesting...

By moving a pumpkin to another spot, Peter managed to sit right beside Egon, using the proliferation of shopping bags to slide even closer. He even snuck an arm along the back of the seat, looking as pleased as a schoolboy getting away with the same thing on his first date.

If Peter and Egon ever did get together Winston wasn't sure what he would do. Buy up shares in anti decay toothpaste, probably, and watch his profits sore as the ambient sweetness of life tripled in intensity.

He'd cry a little, laugh a little, hit something solid. He'd probably go back to pining after the untouchable Ray, wishing he had the balls to approach the man, knowing it would be wrong to do so.

Ray was just such a nice guy, he couldn't bear to have him act differently around him if Winston's advances were unwanted. At least with Egon he had a chance, the guy had flirted with him lots of times, although he had missed it when he had first joined the team and not realised what Egon was doing. And now, of course, he had a rival, the newly clued in Venkman.

Awe, look at that. Egon was reading the back of a cereal packet, trying to figure out the relevance of the grinning bumble bee (which he pointed out was quite ridiculous, as bees don't have mouths) on the front, and Peter had leant forwards to smell his hair.

/Knock it off, Venkman or the jig will be up./ Winston thought, half way caught between annoyance, amusement and a tiny thrill of arousal. Yeah, the thought of Venkman and Spengler doing the dirty turned him on, what could he say, he was a voyeur at heart.

Hmm, come to think of it, he never had asked Peter what he did with Egon's jockeys. /I wonder if.../

And so they drove home, two of them thinking primarily of sex, the other lost in the realms of cartoon Entomology. Meanwhile, back home, Ray had just finished swiping a pair of Winston's briefs and was quietly looking forwards to the arrival of his pumpkin...

The End, Oh My!