Buster.

Part Two

Mid afternoon the next day Peter Venkman entered the lab carrying a tray full of mugs and things and locked the door behind him. Moving to the nearest cleared work surface he set down his burden and began to unload its contents. Buster was at the pet parlour being cleaned up after an incident involving Ray and half a bottle of engine oil, so he knew his ankles were safe for the moment.

He neatly arranged the mugs, sugar, plate of sweet biscuits and a beaker of hot chocolate from off the tray into a cosy cluster on the table. Then he snagged a stool from under the bench and sat down, poured two mugs full of cocoa and waited.

Egon labeled the test-tube in his hand, placed it on a rack with several others just like it, made a note on his clipboard, then turned to regard his friend.

"Sit, drink, talk." Peter instructed him calmly. Egon sighed and made his way over, dragging his stool from that side of the lab with him. It never did to ignore Peter when he was in this sort of a mood, and he supposed it was time he at least tried to talk to someone about this. Lord knew his own struggles to come to terms with it had not been successful, not in the least.

Peter steeled himself to help Egon decide it was time to start looking for a family. It was all part of growing up and experiencing life, after all. And hadn't he been seeking the same thing himself with Dana just a few years before? His friend was obviously making the first few tentative moves, but Peter could help him decide to move on and search for the real thing. It would make Egon happy, and surely that was a worthwhile thing, even if it did make Peter's heart ache. He would do anything to keep Spengler happy, he decided. Anything at all.

"Talk to me, Egon." He urged, laying a hand on his friend's lab-coats sleeve. It was a new one, it had only two holes from what appeared to be acid burns and a mysteriously glowing stain. The arm inside the lab-coat was held tightly under control.

For a while the scientist just sat where he was. He wasn't sure where to begin, or how much he should reveal to his friend. But eventually he stirred, and with deliberation he removed his glasses and put them to one side. Then he wiped his eyes. To Peter's horror he saw that Egon's cheeks were wet with tears. His friend was crying.

"I've never seen any one die before." Egon said, eyes fixed on his mug of cocoa.

Die? Die! Peter's whole train of thought derailed. Who had died?

"Who died, Egon?" he asked gently, trying not to let his confusion show.

The physicist didn't answer strait away, he rubbed at his hands, staring at their marvellous utility. Why, a man could do anything with a pair of hands like these, if he knew how to do it. Build monuments, create huge mechanical machines...save lives. Maybe with a little more training he could have... but no, it had been to late for that.

"There was an ally. I was searching for samples in its waste water run-off when I noticed something in the gutter. It was blood, blood in the gutter. I followed the trail and found a woman. She had been stabbed in the abdominal region several times. She was elderly and what I believe is referred to as a 'bag lady', though in her case it was 'bags' lady. The neatly tied plastic bags full of her life surrounded her like a sea of puff balls."

They had lain untouched, being of no interest to the person who had thrust their weapon deep into the elderly woman's body and let out that flood of red that stained the street. Robbery was not the motivation for this particular bag lady's murder.

In shock blue eyes had locked with darkening brown ones, the knowledge of her murder, her imminent death, a live thing between them. Aware of this she did not, as would have occurred at the movies, gasp out some cryptic clue as to her killer's identity. As she lay with her insides displayed like butchers meat and the red tide of her blood sweeping away her life, she talked instead of things that were important to her. She spoke of the one whom she had to leave behind.

With her dying breath she implored the blonde stranger to give her little one a home. To care for him, to love him as she had loved him, her sweetie, her baby puppykin, her own. He had vowed to her that he would.

By then he had been kneeling besides her, one hand clasping hers, the other stabbing frantically at his mobile phone. Blood was seeping into the knees of his pants, it covered the ground and the nearest bags. So much of it, how could one small, elderly woman hold so much?

"Please, look after him. Please..." she whispered, the last words to ever pass her lips. Egon heard them, and the final uncanny groan of death that followed, just as his mobile finally made it through to the emergency centre - seconds, days, a lifetime to late.

He had found Buster in a garbage Dumpster nearby, where the woman's killer had deposited him. Who ever that person had been they had not balked at taking the woman's life, but stumbled when it came to the life of her dog. Humans could be curious that way. Instead they had placed the pug securely in the Dumpster and got on with their grisly crime.

Buster had been exhausted from trying to get himself out of his prison. When Egon plucked him out and placed him gently on the ground he had wavered on his feet before padding over to the corpse of his former packmate. He had nudged imploringly at her shoulder, but she had not awaken. She would not awaken again.

Egon had moved a little away, taking the small dog with him, so as not to contaminate the crime scene. The odour of death had grown stronger, and at last Egon could give a name to the foul smell that class ones and above would put forth. He could have done without the knowledge.

When the police arrived they took his statement, were still taking it when the paramedics also came and officially pronounced the woman dead. After that Egon had been free to go, so he had left, knees covered in dried blood, Buster still held in his arms.

"God, Egon. Why didn't you tell us?" Peter's hand tightened on his arm.

"I don't know." Came the soft reply, and Peter was moving before he'd consciously thought about it, gathering Egon's shoulders into a hug and holding on tight. Doctor Spengler, who had held it all together so nicely for the last week, immediately broke down and let all the horror, all the sadness, the helplessness and the impotent anger out in a flood of tears.

"It's okay, it's okay. Death is one of those things we all get upset over. Some do it when they're kids, some adults, some when they are very old and their friends start to die. We are mortal and it's not a knowledge we're born with, but something we have to see and learn. It's going to be okay. I promise, it will." Peter whispered, blinking back tears from his own eyes. Egon needed him to be strong right now. So he was strong.

At the height, when Egon was completely lost to his sorrow, Peter began to rock him and to gently stroke his hair. He held on, and encouraged his friend to let go, to give his pain voice, set it free. Peter was there, he would keep him safe till it was all over. Egon would always be safe while Venkman was there, Peter'd die before letting Egon come to any harm. He'd do anything for him, anything.

Eventually Egon lay spent in Peter's arms, his body boneless and weak as an odorous class one. He shuddered at the thought, never going to think of those entities as the harmless spooks he once had. Emotionally purged he drifted, while Peter held him and continued to stroke his hair, murmuring the occasional reassurance. After awhile Egon gave a snuffly little cof and his body tightened - the signal that his outburst was over.

"All better?" Peter asked.

"Yes." Egon sighed, becoming aware that his head rested on Peters chest, the thin material of his friends shirt was soaked with his tears. Peter was letting him stay there, even though the shirt was one of his more expensive ones. He smiled faintly as he felt Peter ghost a kiss over the top of his head. "Now, will you tell me why you've been so awful to Buster since he got here?" he asked.

There was no accusation in his voice, only curiosity. He knew Peter wouldn't act the way he had without a reason. The scientist would have called his friend on it earlier, only he'd been worried Peter would likewise corner him on his own behaviour, and he hadn't been ready to face that yet. Now was the time.

 Now it was Peters turn to hesitate. He was still feeling pretty bad for leaving it this long before confronting Egon for a talk. The big guy had been hurting and he hadn't been there for him. What had he been thinking? Oh yeah - that.

"I was jealous." He admitted, shame faced.

Egon hmmed understanding, he had assumed it would be something like that. But then Peter went on to explain his Buster = surrogate child = Egon leaving him theory and he hadn't seen that aspect at all.

"I missed you, 'gon." Peter admitted into his hair, holding him tighter.

Egon chuckled, turning his head to lookup at his best friend, amused exasperation in his blue eyes. He had been about to say 'child bearing hips' to him, but the look in Peter's eyes stopped the words. And then Peter's lips were covering his, Peter's hands sliding to hold his shoulders and pull him into a position where he could be kissed more easily. Surprised Egon let him do it, he even opened his mouth to let Peter's tongue enter inside and explore as it so obviously wanted to do. But he remained passive, not kissing Peter back, but rather waiting for it to be over.

At last, reluctantly, Peter drew back. He released Egon's shoulders and drew his hands into his lap, where he kept his eyes as well. Egon had not returned the kiss. That was very important to him, mutuality having been his hope. He clenched his hands into fists, willing them to stop trying to reach for his friend again. Egon hadn't participated, he didn't want him, he... deserved an apology.

"God, I'm sorry Spengler. I didn't mean to..." Egon reached over and silenced his mouth, closing it with his fingers.

"Yes, you did." He corrected, touching Peter's lips with curiosity. To his startlement Peter slipped out his tongue and licked him, blinking in surprise when he realised what he'd done. "You know I'm going to have to think about this." he continued, letting his hand drop.

"I know." Peter said, voice husky and soft, eyes again turned to his lap.

Pity swept into Egon's heart, but he squashed it mercilessly. Peter did not want his pity, did not truly deserve it. He was an adult, and if he found his love unrequited then he would deal with it and move on.

The problem was, Egon wasn't so sure it was 'unrequited'. He certainly 'did' have feelings for the psychologist, although not quite what Peter seemed to have in mind. That of course was partly because he'd thought Peter could ever hold such feelings for him.

Egon was a practical man, he would not set himself up to pine after someone the way Janine did for him. It was undignified. And, oh dear - what would they do about Janine? How would she and the other Ghostbusters feel about he and Peter falling in...having an affair?

"Drink your cocoa." Peter said, pushing the mug towards his friend. He could see the cognition going on behind Spengler's blue eyes and felt...sort of comforted by it. At least the guy hadn't rejected him out of hand. Egon sipped his drink and despite it now being cold, found it was still quite delicious. He drank down the entire cup greedily.

Peter smiled at him, then gathered all the things back onto the tray, picked it up and headed for the door. He paused as he was unlocking it and glanced back, green eyes full of longing. Then he was gone.

Dinner that night was pizza, which they ate while sitting on the couch watching TV. Peter sat next to Egon, who for once placed Buster firmly on his other side and admonished the little dog to behave every time he made to snarl at the interloper.

Muttering from under the large red bow the grooming agency had attached to his head, Buster reluctantly did so. The unpleasant human had reformed his stance anyway - no longer being so tensed and aggressive. He would grant him access to the pack, for now.

Peter and Egon were squashed together on the couch, pressed up all along one side, their hands meeting on occasion as they angled to get the next slice of pizza before Ray or Winston. Peter's heart kept leaping when their hands met, although he knew he shouldn't read anything into it. Egon was still 'thinking'.

They listened bemused as Ray spent time during the TV breaks to enthuse about this old electronics kit he'd found in a garage sale. He was planning on making up several of the 'projects' in it, including a door buzzer, an electric piano and listening devise.

"You mean a bug?" Peter asked, trying to stay in the conversation, despite being hyper aware that both his and Spengler's knees were touching.

"Yeah, a bug! It'll be so cool! And there are blue prints for a whole lot of other cool stuff in there as well!" Ray enthused.

"Ray, you can make that stuff standing on your head, blue prints or no blue prints. Why bother?" Winston pointed out, sounding a little exasperated.

"Because it'll be fun! You want to help me?"

/No, I don't want to help you - that's kids stuff and I'm all grown up now./ is what Winston's inner voice said to himself. But instantly another voice spoke up, a younger, edgier voice, reminding him that this was Ray here, not some judgmental member of his own family that he had to impress just to get along with. So he grinned and nodded instead. Why not? There was the possibility he would learn something. And besides - it would be fun.

They all noticed that there was only one slice of pizza left at the same time. Everyone froze, then there was a flash of movement and they were all scrabbling at the pizza box, pushing and swearing, in one instance threatening to bite, but Winston raised an eyebrow and Egon gently relaxed his jaw and let his hand go. Besides, Peter already had the final slice held protectively to his chest.

"Peter Venkman, still number one!" he chortled. When the other two had resignedly gone back to the movie he leant forwards to block their view a little and offered the slice to Egon, holding it temptingly at mouth height. Okay, so Spengs was thinking. No rules said he couldn't try and 'influence' that train of thought, right?

Egon eyed him narrowly, then parted his lips, licking the lower one, before taking a delicate bite. His lips brushed Peter's fingers as he did so, and the other man grinned in delight, taking his own turn at the pizza, then letting Egon have another go again and so on until it was all gone.

The strange thing was they'd eaten like this before. Sharing food when they were in a hurry had been second nature, they didn't even think about it. Peter was thinking about it now.

"The roof." Egon whispered, picking Buster up and heading for the bunk room. Peter grinned like a nut and headed for the stairs.

"How long have you loved me?" Egon asked. He and Peter were on the roof - ostentatiously to watch stars - in reality to talk. Buster was in a fleecy blue dog coat, curled in his pyramid shaped sleeping igloo, little nose sticking out the opening as he watched Venkman to make sure he didn't pull any sudden moves.

Peter wasn't moving anywhere. Egon had taken up some couch cushions and they were sitting on them, backs to the heating vent, sharing a rug. Peter wanted to snuggle up close to his buddy, but they were leaning together shoulder to shoulder and for now that would do.

"How long?" he repeated cautiously. "Jeez, how long is a piece of string? Since forever. All the time I've known you there have been moments when I'd look over and think - gee, Egon's gorgeous," he felt Spengler giving him an incredulous look, but ignored it. "Then the moment would pass and you'd be my best pal again and I'd think how lucky I was to have such a good friend. I guess, it's sort of crept up on me. The moments have just been closer together, and well, they no longer feel like they're gonna pass."

"Did you ever...?" Egon's voice trailed off, uncertain if he really wanted to know the answer.

"Yes Egon, I've checked you out. I've checked out Winston and Ray too."

"Oh. So you're bisexual? I never knew."

"I'm...I don't know what I am, except in love." The smooth line at the end there covered up for a world of confusion. Peter had been thinking about it all day, he felt his hands ball into fists as he fought to make sense of it yet again.

He loved women, he was good with women. He wanted Egon, who was most definitely a man. It didn't make sense.

"Does love ever make sense?" Egon asked quietly.

Damn, Peter realised with a start he must have been muttering out loud again. Bad habit. Very bad habit.

When he didn't answer Egon reached over and found one of his hands, tugging at the fist until Peter opened it for him and then entwining their fingers. He admired the way they fit together.

"I would not take kindly to being made a fool of, Peter." he said sternly, looking up at the stars. "If I find out you've been cheating on me..."

"I wont!" Peter cut in, his heart speeding up like a runaway locomotive. He twisted to look at Egon's profile, something raw and needy flaring into life in his guts. "Did I ever cheat on Dana? No!" /Believe me, believe me, believe in me!/ he thought frantically.

"No." the physicist agreed. "Although I believe she thought you did."

"I know. But I didn't. And what I feel for you is incomparable, to 'anyone'..." his voice choked off, stopped in his throat by the powerful swell of emotion burning through him. He looked away but strong fingers took his chin and turned him back.

"Very well, Peter Venkman. You may court me if you wish." Egon intoned, only a hint of a smile in his steady bass voice.

"Kiss me?" Peter begged hopefully. Egon laughed and let him go, leaning back and tilting his head to look at the stars again.

"I said you can date me Peter, I never said I was going to be easy."

"Aww, Egon!" Peter whined, but he grinned anyway, suddenly wanting to sing, dance, get a tattoo - do something to show how happy he felt at that moment. Instead he insinuated an arm around Egon's shoulders, chuckling to himself in relief when the blonde leant forwards a little to let him do it. Snuggling in they both turned to watch the night sky.

"I do believe I shall have the Black Forest cake for dessert." Egon murmured, running his tongue thoughtfully over his lips. Peter had just told him he intended to pay for the coming evening and his meal plan had changed accordingly.

"I hope those lips of yours are ready to put out, Egon - second date." Peter teased lightly, reaching over to straiten Egon's already precisely set bow tie.

"What a shame I haven't got a bra for you to try and get undone while you're at it." Egon mused, eyeing his friend affectionately.

"Hey, no fair, you know all my moves!" Peter pouted prettily.

"And whose fault is that? Loose lips sink battleships, Doctor Venkman."

"How was I to know you'd one day be using all that stuff against me?" Peter wasn't all that worried. Egon knew some of his moves, but the best ones, the ones that got him laid nine times out of ten, had to be 'shown' to you, not told about. He smirked and ran his knuckles softly against Egon's Adam's apple then stepped back to admire his handy work.

They were going out to dinner, their 'second' date because Peter was insisting the roof was their first, and it was going to be quite an occasion. Venkman had been bouncing off the walls all day, singing songs, waltzing an impromptu dance with Janine, charging clients extra.

And tonight he was dressed to kill, green shirt under dark grey jacket, matching pants, black hushpuppies. He'd spent an hour in the bathroom exfoliating, plucking nasal hair, buffing his nails, teasing his widows peak to its fullest curl and trying not to fall in love with his own reflection. How could he help himself? He looked so good.

Egon's appearance...well, lets just say it was the third time Peter had adjusted his bow tie for him. Spengs looked good enough to eat in his white suite with the blue accents and Peter was finding it hard to keep his hands off him. His heart was beating out a steady tattoo of 'want, want, want!' Time to get this show on the road before anything, ah, unseemly happened, like he threw the guy on the bed and removed his clothes with his teeth.

Downstairs Egon called Buster and opened the large doctor's case he was carrying. The bag had covered air holes and the little pug, resplendent in his own dinner jacket, hopped in.

"You are not taking a dog into a restaurant?" Winston asked, scandalised.

"Buster is not a dog, he is a companion animal." Egon told him. "Besides, no one will know." He resettled his glasses on his nose and looked down it blandly at them all.

Winston glanced at Peter, who shrugged. Butter wouldn't melt in Spengler's mouth, his look seemed to say. But could you prove it?

They'd talked earlier - he, Ray, and Winston - about what had really been upsetting Egon lately. Winston had nodded grimly, his years in the army had taken the edge off the death/mortality debate with his soul, but he could remember going through it vividly.

Ray had been quiet for awhile, his memories of death began earlier than the others, and it had shaped who he was more intimately. He had been sad to think that Egon's innocence in that regard had come to an end.

Their reactions had touched Peter, they cared for their friend so much. He didn't even have to prod to get them to talk with Egon about their experiences. Peters had been with a childhood friend who had killed himself over family problems. They had all shared their thoughts and the scientist had begun to feel more comfortable with his own reactions when he could see that they were not as singular as he had believed.

The guys had also been understanding on his reluctance to tell of the fate of Busters previous owner. They knew Egon well enough to know that the physicist sometimes found it hard to share his feelings. They also thought tonight was Peter's idea for keeping the lanky blonde from brooding on things and as a gesture of remorse for giving Buster a hard time.

Little did they know, this was going to be Peter's night.

"G'night guys!" Ray called to them as they waited by the exit for the taxi. "Have a good time!"

"Bye Ray, remember what I said about the water wheel. No!"

"Aww, Peter..."

"Ecto doesn't need one, Ray."

"Awww..."

"There is the taxi, we should..." Egon began - to be interrupted by a loud buzzing noise as he opened the door. Their industrious little engineer had finally finished rigging all the firehouse doors with buzzers.

Peter, who would normally have put a stop to this irritating distraction, was unfortunately far to busy being in love to worry about it. And all the others hated stopping Ray when he was in a playful mood, so the buzzers continued, as did the siren when somebody lifted the toilet seat and the alarm on the fridge (although Winston's smirk hinted that this may have been his responsibility.)

Rolling their eyes the two well-dressed Ghostbusters went to catch their ride, secretly smiling at each other in anticipation.

"You got the parts?" Winston asked out the corner of his mouth.

"Out the back." Ray grinned.

"Cool."

The two men talked over dinner, as they were wont to do, about anything and everything. From Julia Roberts acting career to Egon's findings on phosphorescent algae spores.

And they talked about them, being a couple. Peter would rather have pulled out his teeth with his bare hands, but some how he knew Egon wasn't going to be in the mood to fall in love until he'd looked at some of the ground work for the relationship. Which was a good idea, just not Peter's usual style. And of course, he was deadly afraid that Egon would spot something that he felt they could not reconcile.

Needing to discuss this first Egon painfully confessed that he did not want children because he was afraid he would turn out the kind of father his old man had been. He cautiously allowed that he would not interfere if Peter chose to adopt, but that he could not be certain of his feelings should that happen. He'd torn a small dinner roll into crumbs revealing this, and Peter had dearly wanted to reach over and take his hand to reassure him.

"Hey, no probs, Egon. I don't think I'll go down that route myself. My dad, well - you know my dad. And you're right, we learn how to be parents from our own folks."

"Don't give up on the idea, just because of me, Peter. I know how good you are with children." Egon urged him.

"I'm a people person, what can I say? But Egon, kids won't make me as happy as you do. Okay? If we could make a kid together, maybe. The best of you and me, it's tempting. But just having you would be my dream come true." His eyes conveyed the truth to his words and Egon began to understand, genuinely understand, that this was not just some mad idea of his colleagues, but what looked to be a long term proposal. He shivered with the weight of the knowledge. He had his best friend's future happiness in his hands, he dared not risk being mistaken.

They spoke of 'coming out' and all that such a declaration would bring about, for them, the company, their friends and family. Company wise, Peter's theory was that they were persons non-gratis with most of the churches anyway, and anyone red necked enough not to hire the team because two of its members were in a relationship together, were red necked enough not to have hired them in the first place.

On a more personal note he worried that Egon might face ostracism from the scientific world. Egon had nearly choked on his asparagus in bean butter sauce. He'd given Peter a lop sided grin and assured him that simply being a Ghostbuster had well and truly taken care of that, except in his more rarefied pursuits. It was unlikely the micronia resonance conclave would cast him adrift, even if he should prove to have a more than passing interest in virgin female goats.

Look, he had pointed out when Peter had continued to give him an uneasy stare, to his early warnings about the greenhouse effect. True, other scientists had been ignored on the subject, for science could be both the most intuitive and staid of the arts. But he had been one of the few asked not even to participate in the debate, due to the aura of 'confusion' surrounding his reputation.

Peter had looked at him, dumb founded. He knew all this of course, but still it hurt. Those bastards, he'd get them one of these days, he'd vowed it. Egon would have all the recognition he needed, and a sodding Nobel Prize, too. If he had to set Slimer on some body to do it, he would.

"What about Raymond and Winston?" Egon asked quietly, slipping his finished T-bone into the medical case for Buster to have a chew on. The little dog yipped in delight and the headwaiter eyed them suspiciously, but did not come over. Score one for Egon's 'reputable' look.

"They will find out, I think Winston might even, ah, suspect. Ray too, a little. How they find out for certain, that's going to make a difference, I think." Peter twirled a sprig of parsley garnish and wondered idly if suspenders where anything like bar straps to get off. He, kind of liked the idea.

"When should we tell them?" Egon finally asked, letting the worry creep into his voice.

"We're gonna kiss tonight, right?" Peter asked, allowing some of his own apprehension to show itself as well.

"So long as I am not overcome by performance anxiety, yes." Egon replied blandly. Peter grinned back at him.

"Then we should tell them as soon as possible. I don't want them catching us making out. I'll do it as soon as we get home." He nodded decidedly. Egon tilted his head and looked at him curiously. Peter was taking this all rather levelly, he thought. Time to put a stop to that.

"What about Janine?" he asked.

"Shit! She's gonna kill me!" Peter threw the sprig of garnish to the table top and sat there stunned. How'd he forget about Egon's mistress in waiting? It was gonna cut something up deep inside to have to break this to her. She was sorta like his little sister and he knew this was gonna hurt. Losing Egon to Peter Venkman, womaniser and bad mouthing boss? It was gonna hurt a lot! "Well, okay, tomorrow morning, strait up (pardon the pun). And I don't want you to be there, okay? She's gonna say some stuff she's gonna regret. She'll regret it twice as much if she says it and you were around to here it." Peter bit on one of his fingernails reflectively. Janine, god, life was going to be one long joy ride at the firehouse for awhile. Great.

"Um, actually, Peter, that may not prove to be as much of a chore as you might be thinking." Egon offered, his cheeks staining slightly with embarrassment.

"Huh?" Peter Venkman, satirical funnyman quipped back.

"Well, you see, Janine and I, we did have something of a trial relationship, around about the time she took me home to meet her parents. It didn't work out." he admitted candidly.

"Well, duh. You two are so not...wait a minute. W-hat? You and Janine bumped uglies? No way, I'd have known! Except...no, no way! ....You little demon!" Peter grinned at him. His mind was playing pictures. Egon, Janine - bed, whipped cream, a roll of cling wrap. Him showing up and shoving their secretary out the door...

"Hmm." Egon picked at his remaining French salad, trying to avoid Peters oddly intense gaze.

"But all this time you've let us believe you'd never done it." Peter accused, suspicion awakening in the back of his eyes. Egon saw it and decided he may as well come clean.

"Oh guys!" he remarked in a cute falsetto, fluttering his eyelashes in a way that had Peter biting at the insides of his cheeks to stop the laughter. "You've pissed me off royally again, you'd better get Egon to take me out on a romantic date to a really nice restaurant, on the company's credit cards, or else!"

Peter spluttered and blinked. No way! Yes way, if the twinkle in Egon's eye had anything to say about it. "You two bilked us for 'how' many dinner dates that way? Egon, I'm surprised at you! That, that sounds more like me!" He couldn't decide if he should be mortally offended or amused. Amusement won out and he laughed till his sides ached.

"Actually, we can be rather alike." Egon murmured, liking the way Peter had taken his and Janine's subterfuge. Not that he didn't think Peter was going to try and get them back for it, though. Especially as money was involved, and he knew there were few things Peter loved more than money.

Peter's laughter eventually wound down and he sat, slouched slightly forwards, blinking slowly at his dinner companion. Egon gave him a curious look and Peter shrugged, reaching out to take the stem of his wineglass and fingering it slowly. This put his hand approximately next to Egon's on the table and he moved it until the backs of their hands touched.

"So, we discussed everything yet?" he asked, nonchalant.

"Yes Peter." Egon told him gravely.

"Good, good. Okay. Ah..." Peter sat up strait and reached for something in his jacket pocket. The moment had come, and despite a decade of surviving just such moments he found himself struggling to find something to say. "You have lovely eyes, Spengler." He blurted out, wincing immediately as he said it.

He could distinctly remember telling the guys way back when that if you couldn't think of anything to say to compliment a date then to tell them they have nice eyes. You couldn't go wrong with that one, he'd said. He wondered if Egon remembered him saying it? What was he thinking, of course he did! Oh ho.

"Your eyes are of the correct number and of a pleasing shape and colour too, Venkman." Egon told him seriously, that tiny chink at the corner of his mouth the only hint to what Peter hopefully assumed to be his amusement. Oh yeah, Egon remembered alright.

"I've, ah, got something for you." Peter brought the little velvet sack out of his pocket and tipped its contents on to his palm.

"A gift, Peter? Don't you save those for the fourth date, and only if the woman involved has, em, 'put out' is I believe the expression they use for it." Egon raised one thin blonde eyebrow suspiciously at him.

"Hey, that's an unjust slur on my rep there, bud! I give a gift even if they haven't put out. It's just not as nice a one." He struck a pose of injured dignity, reminding himself not to use any more old lines on Spengs than he had too. All new old lines were needed for his present paramour. He extended the gift towards Egon, a frisson of apprehension roiling in his gut.

"Besides," he quipped, "this is different. I saw it at the jewellers when I was getting my watch fixed. You remember how that class four put the hoodoo on it? And I just had to buy it. Its so you. Here."

Egon took the thick gold chain bracelet and eyed it admiringly. From its weight he'd say it had to be just about pure gold and each solid link was impressed with a stylised representation of the astrological year.

"It is lovely, Peter. Help me put it on." He held out a hand and watched Peter do up the clasp with slightly shaky fingers. Peter stroked the underside of his wrist before letting him go, smiling at him warmly.

/I wonder how many ghost traps this will have cost us?/ Egon pondered idly, admiring the gold chain anew. It seemed Peter had one thing more he liked better than money, and while Egon thought the gesture a little premature, he was rather pleased with the way the bracelet showed against his skin. And it still held the warmth from being in Peter's pocket all this time, an unusually interesting quality.

"Thank you." He said. Peter sighed and smiled. It made something in Egon's stomach flip. Suddenly he could hardly wait for dinner to be over. He was almost tempted to skip the Black Forrest Cake he'd ordered for dessert. But the lure of fresh cream, chocolate and cherries held sway. But they only just held sway, and he ate them up as fast as he could.

"Okay, they're in with Ecto," Peter dropped down from where he'd been peering in through the slightly wider crack near one of the hinges of the main doors. "changing spark plugs or whatever it is they do to her late at night. Wanna go get comfy in front of the TV while I, ah, break the news?"

"Do you?" Egon countered.

"No. Okay, we both go. And remember, this will come as a shock to them, so any harsh words will just be an initial reaction. Not that there will be any harsh words, the guys are cool, but just in case..."

"Peter, if we don't go in soon I am going to freeze to death here without ever having to endure the famed Venkman lip lock. Can we get a move on?" the taller man shivered in the chill night air. Peter blinked at him a minute then relaxed his shoulders and opened the door. The both leapt a foot when the buzzer went off and they laughed, releasing some of their tension.

Egon reached out as they passed over the threshold and snagged Peter's hand with his free one. It felt warm and comforting in his own and Peter knew that no matter what - come fire, flood or the lose of friends and livelihood, he had to have this man in his life.

Inside Spook Central Ray and Winston stood with identical stances besides the open hood of Ecto, pondering her inner workings. Fists on chins they contemplated their next move thoughtfully. A tray full of parts sat on a chair that had been wheeled over for the purpose. They appeared not to have heard the door buzzer at all.

Peter walked over, towing Egon a little behind him.

"Hey, guys. We've got an announcement to make."

"Hm?" Winston 'almost' looked over to see what was up, but his eyes soon resettled on Ecto.

"Ah, yeah." Peter cleared his throat and looked briefly away. When he spoke his voice was full of quiet conviction. "Egon and I have fallen in love. Tonight was our first date, so we haven't been hiding anything from either of you, we just want to let you know whats up now. Any questions?"

Winston and Ray looked over at them, thunderstruck. The pair squirmed under the surprised stares, drawing together in an instinctual defensive maneuver. Winston noticed it and shut his mouth, then elbowed Ray to do the same.

"You two are, like - going to be boyfriends?" He demanded, trying to get his head around the images popping into his mind.

"Uh, boyfriends? Yes, boyfriends is good." Peter nodded his head encouragingly.

"Ray?" Egon asked the younger man, who had remained silent.

"You going to tell any one? Besides us, I mean, and your parents and Janine." He looked at them in round eyed concern.

"Not right away." Peter answered. "But if we're asked, we wont deny it." He felt Egon squeeze his hand in reassurance. Right answer, then. "Winston, how do you feel about..." Zed held up a hand and stopped Peter mid question.

"The bible is a great book. If you need a hand with your life, need advice on living a good and proper life, look there and you will find a way. God inspired that book, but never let us forget that men wrote it. I don't forget that, ever. Jesus said 'Why not decide for yourselves that which is right?' Do you think I could still do this job if I didn't believe that? I think for myself and I think on the good book, and I can't see god giving up on anyone just for falling in love."

The others blinked at him in surprise, that was quite a speech from their friend. He generally kept his religious ideas to himself, probably to prevent Peter from spiking him about it. Peter felt far from teasing him about his beliefs right then, they sounded so strong and defining. He felt a little envious of them, although he still felt judged, too.

"Now, having said that," Winston slid his hands into his back pocket and squinted at them in concentration, "I would appreciate it if there weren't too many overt gestures between the two of you..."

Peter and Egon immediately dropped each other's hands and Winston rolled his eyes heaven ward. "Not like that. I meant, you know, no shoving your tongues down each others throats at the breakfast table, stuff like that."

"It would be rude of us to do such a thing." Egon assured him earnestly.

"But I 'like' tongue for breakfast..." Peter whined. The others all looked at him resignedly and sighed. Peter was Peter, he couldn't help himself. "Okay, no fore play on the dinner table. Er, it okay with you if we, you know, make out on the sofa for awhile? No hands below the waist, pop, honest." Peter held up his hands and Winston just knew he'd made a mistake with his last comment, but he hadn't exactly been prepared...

"Sure thing Peter, enjoy yourselves!" Ray chirped, rescuing him and surprising himself with the words as well, if the faint bulge to his eyes was any indication. He gave the couple a determined grin anyway and motioned them towards the stairway. Peter and Egon made their escape.

"Well, turns out we didn't need to do that thing in the lab after all." Winston said when they were sure the other two were out of range.

"Nah, but it was fun doing it. And who knows what we might get later..." Ray lifted an eyebrow and Winston shook his head in despair. He'd corrupted the kid, no doubt about it. Or may be Ray had corrupted him. Talking of which, "We'd better get their hairdryers back before they notice there gone."

"We could always tell'em we were using them to fight the good fight." Came the cheeky reply.

"They would still kill us, Ray. They treat those things like children."

"Yeah, and I dig the way they have them colour coded, Egon's red and Peter's green. They sure were powerful, though. We got a lot more realistic results from them than I thought we would."

"So, can we get this baby water borne or what?" Winston asked and Rays grin was all the answer he needed.

The newly announced 'couple' made their way up the stairs to the second floor, only there reaching out to take each others hands once again.

"That didn't go so bad." Peter said, giving Egon an uncertain look.

"It went rather well, actually." Egon slipped Busters case to the ground and allowed the little dog his freedom. Buster took up his chop bone from the restaurant and went to hide it firmly in the gym equipment cushions where he deposited his more exciting finds. They wouldn't be bothered by him again that evening.

"You can relax now, Peter." Egon moved to rub firmly at Peter's tense shoulders. A strange feeling came over him as he did so and he found himself fascinated by the feel of Peter's hard body under the soft cloth. "We should perhaps remove our outer clothes if we do not wish to get them wrinkled," he murmured.

"Uh..." Peter's mind had taken a sabbatical when Egon's hands descended upon him, it was all he could do to nod. Egon began to take off Peter's jacket, enjoying the feel of the heated material, it reminded him of the bracelet Peter had given him earlier. He next removed and folded his own jacket, placing them both side by side over the back of a chair, out of the way.

They kissed. As their bodies pressed together intimately for the first time, Egon felt Peter unexpectedly tighten away from him. He stopped the kiss immediately and looked at his friend with sad eyes.

"So," he whispered. "A man doesn't kiss like a woman, after all." The night, which had been going so well, suddenly verged on the comedic tragedy. He felt his throat tighten and the prick of tears, which he would never, never allow himself to shed.

"Ah, Egon, have you got the wrong end of the stick." Peter teased him, pulling with the hand he had tangled in Spengler's hair and getting the other man to look downwards at his lap. "That right there is what we call a semi." He explained, as they both regarded the conspicuous tenting in his pants. "Egon? Spengs? Don't freak out on me, huh? I couldn't help it." He sounded a little congested with embarrassment, the erection had hit him by surprise and he had moved back to keep Egon unaware of its arrival. Shit, if Egon freaked, what was he going to do?

They looked at each other and a tiny smile curled at the corner of Spengler's mouth. "Is that a PKE meter in your pocket, or are you just excited to see me?" Egon asked dryly.

"Ha!" Peter laughed. "Egon Spengler, I'm surprised at you! Knowing a line like that!"

Then they both lost it, laughing until their faces were red and tears leaked down their cheeks. Egon wiped at his and looked over at Peter with affection. They were, he noted, holding hands again. A good sign.

"So," Peter asked, noticing him watching, "wanna try that again?"

"Well, I suppose so." Egon agreed. "If you want."

"Oh Egon, man - buddy ...I want..." and Peter was on him, slanting their mouths together, hand seeking the back of one platinum blond head yet again, breathing in the scent that had intoxicated him to near ejaculation just a second ago. Good, it felt so good.

They were still at it when Winston and Ray went to bed. Their shoes had been pushed off by then and Peter had managed to loosen Egon's bow tie and first two buttons, but that was as undressed as they got.

Eventually they fell asleep together, their arms still entwined, Buster deciding to join them briefly around midnight but finding it to warm and hopping off back to his own bed shortly afterwards.

The next morning they both woke up with sore necks from sleeping on the couch, a warm feeling from waking tangled together and a double dose of stubble rash. Life was bliss.

Continued in part three...