Valentine's Day

Peter's side of the wardrobe contained 'THE' ugliest collection of Hawaiian shirts, indeed they went beyond ugly and into the realms of hideous. You needed sunglasses just to open the door on his side.

In a vacuum sealed box atop their winter wardrobe lay the two white with red Hibiscus print Hawaiian shirts they had said their vow's to each other in. Unlike Peter's usual choice in such things, these shirts had been beautiful. Egon still liked to admire their photos from that day and delight in how good the two of them looked together.

Amongst his Peter brought Hawaiian shirts, as swans amidst waterfowl, hung Egon's tuxedos. They often hired them as the need arose, yet somehow he had ended up with five permanent ones. Two had been brought for him by Peter outright - the other three the man had helped to stylishly accessorise.

<sigh> Peter Venkman, the Jeckle and Hyde of fashion.

Then there was the chicken suit. Nestled away behind his more respectable pink shirts hung the costume Ray had talked him into wearing for the youngest ghostbusters coming party.

The party was to celebrate the achievement of Ray's helicopter license and he had decided that the guests were to come as cartoon characters. Egon's was from something called 'Chicken Run'. Ray had solemnly told him that he was the only one in the team with legs good enough to pull it off.

Peter had immediately volunteered to help Egon prepare his legs for the role by shaving them, insisting it needed to be done for the proper 'look'. He then hurried out to buy shaving cream and a razor. As the party wasn't for another two days Egon had a feeling Peter was planning on something sexual occurring. In fact, he was rather hoping it would!

The tall scientist mused briefly on the sexual creature he had become. It was quite a change. He wondered what his former, younger self would have thought about the traindrivers apron, cap and gloves, discreetly hidden at the back of the wardrobe. These and these alone he wore to bed should he ever need an extra Spectrometer or Nylor thermascope. One look at Egon attired thus and Peter was putty in his hands, ready to give him anything that he desired! A good weapon to have in his arsenal, but it had to be used responsibly, of course.

Egon shut the wardrobe door and stepped over to the dresser. Touching the heavy dark wood he envisioned the contents of the top draw and compared it to that of his collage going self.

Gone were the staid Y fronts of his youth, replaced by wild animal prints and exciting shear posing pouches. His Mother would be horrified if she ever found out. But not as much as she would be if she went one draw down, to the toy department draw.

One draw down from that Egon kept his treasured most mementos. The remembrances of a long and tangled courtship nestled there. Love letters, opera tickets, restaurant menu's, softball flags, convention handouts, car rally programs - the jetsam and flotsam of two lives aligning them selves into one.

On top of the dresser a line of test-tubes in a stainless steel rack were set out. Each test tube held a single flower, one of four vibrant Gerbera daisies in bright blue, purple, hot pink and yellow. Egon hoped Peter would like them. They reminded him of his lover; strong, colourful, individualistic.

He also hoped Peter could be talked into doing the shaving thing tonight, seeing as both Ray and Winston had dates and they would have the firehall to themselves. It would be...interesting.

Interesting, that described his life now.

As a young man learning of his Fathers expectations of him the thought of Hawaiian shirts and chicken suits had never entered his head. How could he have factored Ray's meat balls into his calculations if he had?

Once, as he envisioned his future, there had been no scraping ectoplasm off his shoes at the front door, no wrestling Winston into giving him Ecto's keys or dodging Janine's gifts of home made toffee which, while pure sugar and totally delicious, could adhere his teeth together for several hours.

Over all he was glad that this was how his life had turned out, it was infinitely more desirable than the boring, safe one his parents had planned for him. Especially the part where he got to love and be loved by Peter Venkman. The love they shared was far superior to the near breeding program marriage he might otherwise have been coerced into.

Their love had evolved naturally, starting mentally, emotionally and only then, when romance was well established, physically. Yes, he and Peter made quite the duo.

He smiled as he looked around the room, seeing the little things that made it 'theirs'. The scarred lab bench that they had dragged into the corner to place their combined hair care products on, the stack of old Playboy magazines they used as a stand for the extra TV set, the wriggling red robe in the corner...hmm.

Egon went over and cautiously lifted the energetically bumping garment. Ah, so that was where they had got to. He lifted the robe higher and Winston's possessed sneakers shook themselves vigorously before speeding towards the doorway.

/There is altogether far too much ambient ectoplasmic energy around here./ Egon thought, feeling his spectacles settle themselves more comfortably on his nose. /Yes indeed, far too much./

With a final look to make sure the flowers were arranged to their best advantage, Egon nodded with satisfaction and headed out to do some checking on the containment's Bleed. Since that last accident when they had been sent spinning through time they had begun to release the energy build up in tiny allotments.

It looked as if they might have to adjust the settings, as it appeared to have increased a little beyond the desired limit once again. Idly he wondered if Peter had, as usual, forgotten about Valentines Day and was even now battling last minute shoppers in order to buy him a gift.

In his trolley he already had the basket and the moss, now all he needed was the fungus and he was set to go. Cruising down the aisle he grabbed up oyster mushrooms, button caps, golden mushrooms and the ugly honeycomb ones that looked like troll scrotums. Then he saw it, the last pack of tall, spindly club fungi, just what he needed to complete his fungus bouquet.

As Doctor Venkman approached his goal he became aware of a somewhat florid man with the look of a gourmand about him, coming in from the other direction. Their eyes met, each recognised the determined desire in the depth of the other. As one they sprang forward, both grabbing at the club fungi at the same time. A scuffle ensued as each tried to wrest the packet from his opponent.

"I need that for my Valentine bouquet!" Peter snapped.

"I need it for my Valentine dinner!" The gourmand snapped back.

"My lover is expecting these!" Peter yelled.

"So is mine!" The gourmand yelled back.

They tussled and they heaved and they went flying into a cabbage display, wrestling each other still as they both went down.

...5 minutes later...

"I don't mind the occasional electric shock, or the Nether entities that sometimes follow him home." Peter confided, taking a swig from the bottle of orange juice they had popped open in their struggles. "It's the mould experiments he keeps in the fridge I don't like." He shuddered dramatically.

"Mine has poodles. Six of them. Horrid, yippy little things, spoilt rotten. They give my poor golden retriever Benny the run around." Patrick (for that was the mans name, Patrick Darcey) sighed and tugged a cabbage leaf from out of his jumper. "He leaves wet towels on the bathroom floor and invites complete strangers home for dinner without letting me have any time to prepare at all."

He regarded the packet of fungus sitting on a squashed crate between them. The two men had ended up sprawled in an upturned garden display. The sound of rioting came from somewhere near the chocolate section, so they were safe from the supermarket security for now.

"He snores." Peter said.

"He grinds his teeth." Patrick added.

"I love him." Peter confessed.

"I do too." Patrick sighed. "If I buy these wretched things and give you the two tallest, most handsome specimens, will that satisfy you lover, do you think?"

"Yeah." Peter agreed. So that is what they did.

Egon loved his fungi bouquet, Peter loved his Gerbera's. The razor was lovingly applied to Egons legs, and other areas. Closely followed by Peter's lips. And a happy Valentines was had by all.