Peter knelt at Egon's side, staring up at the scientist with patient adoration. He was dressed in a grey polo shirt and jeans, hiking boots were on his feet and a large, expensive diving watch gleamed on his wrist. He tried to imagine what Egon's face behind the newspaper looked like, staring at the newsprint as if he had x-ray vision.

The wall clock ticked, the fishtank's aerator bubbled and the sound of Ray and Winston practising in the basements shooting range came faintly from the stairwell. Egon turned a page and sighed.

"Okay, what is it?" he asked warily, keeping his eyes on the page. Bloomindales was having a sale on heatlamps, he needed some extra ones for his fungi collection.

"Egon Spengler, would you do me the honour of marrying me?" Peter placed one hand over his heart, the other he rested on the arm of the chair. His eyes sparkled with love and anticipation.

Egon shook the paper to get the wrinkles out of it while considering his answer. "No." he said, and went back to the classifieds.

"Aww, Honey!" Peter whined. "Why not?"

"I am never going to forgive you for the last time. Vegas was 'it'. No more." Egon peeked over the top of the newspaper to give him a determined glare, then went back to his reading.

"It was the dress, wasn't it?" Peter asked sadly, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "I swear to you, that was all Winston's fault!" he made the puppy dog eyes he knew Egon couldn't resist, but Egon refused to look up from the paper, so remained immune.

"Have you any idea how hard it was to get all that makeup off?" he inquired irritably. He had broken out in a rash afterwards, too.

"But it was just that one time, all the others have been good! Come on, you enjoy them as much as I do, admit it!" Peter sat back on his heels and crossed his arms. Gee, Spengler could hold a grudge!

"I enjoyed Hawaii." Egon allowed cautiously. "The white tux wedding in the Mexican parish house was sweet. The private garden affair in Sydney was lovely, the midnight ceremony in Winchester castle was romantic and the binding halfway up a mountain in Tibet was challenging. Even the thing with the mud and the chicken's blood was interesting from a scientific/research point of view. But Vegas was embarrassing and totally uncalled for." He flipped a page with unnecessary force and scrutinised its content.

"This will be better." Peter promised. Egon ignored him. Peter blew out his cheeks in an exasperated puff and stood up, waving his hands in the air to show his sincerity. "We can't stop getting married now, we've nearly got them down perfect. It's become a tradition, every holiday, the guys expect it of us! You know I get only the best chocolate cake for the reception afterwards," he wheedled.

Egon frowned deeper and ignored him some more.

"Okay. I get it. So, the spark is starting to go out already." Peter's hands fell to his side and he gave Egon his best hangdog look. But there was an undercurrent of sincere unhappiness under the quietly spoken words that finally forced Egon to drop the newspaper and look at him.

"Don't be an ass," he scolded. "I love you as much today as I did on that volcano in Hawaii, more even. I just don't see the need for this continual renewing of our vows. I am not going anywhere, Peter. I promised to stand by you through all things, good and bad. Do you put so little faith in my words?" he glared up into sad green eyes, wishing he could figure out why Peter kept doing this. It wasn't just a love of ceremony, although that was definitely part of it.

"No." Peter gave him a wounded look. "It's just that..." he trailed off, kneeling by Egon's side again, head bowed, unable to find the words he needed.

"Just that what?" Egon reached over and tilted Peter's face so that he could look into his eyes. They shimmered with self-doubt. "Say it Peter. I won't be offended."

"I don't want to lose you." Peter told him softly, then something dark and primal flashed in his eyes. "And I want to make it as damned hard as possible for you to leave me."

Egon blinked at him for a minute. Peter looked away, embarrassed by his confession as his partner finally realised what the addiction to rice throwing and carnations was all about. "Ah, indeed. The necessary extra steps now needed to obtain a divorce."

Peter nodded dumbly, feeling both fear and relief that his motives were known. Egon was a fair guy, he knew Peter came with built in faults, he wouldn't hold it against him. Would he?

"I'd need the equivalent of sixteen camels to get out of the marriage in Buggahnii. Half my assets and an expensive lawyer for the one in California. Rancid butter is involved with at least one of the other ceremonies and the Indian one calls for me to announce that I am putting you aside in the local newspaper for a fortnight. Yes, I can see how that would make things awkward." Egon pulled slowly at his bottom lip, frowning into space. "I could simply have you vapourised by a 'stray' particle beam, you know."

"If I lost your love I'd welcome it." Peter declared. Egon rolled his eyes at him. "Well, I would!" Peter protested. Egon put aside his paper and gestured at his lap. Peter smirked and got up to settled himself in, wrapping his arms around his lovers neck.

"So, where is it you want to go this time?" Egon inquired, cuddling him close. He inhaled the scent of Peter's hair and buried his face in the brown locks.

"Well, I was just reading about this cruise ship...ah...yeah...just there..." he closed his eyes as Egon licked at the spot behind his ear. Heaven.

Egon smiled, enjoying the weight of his lover in his lap. The man could be absurdly insecure sometimes, a fact he had always known. But it still came as a shock when it manifested itself, for on the surface Venkman was altogether 'too' sure of himself.

This was eminently his style, to dress his insecurity in romanticism. However, Egon knew that Peter was also a huge romantic. He had no doubt the man enjoyed their many weddings simply for there own sake and not just because they represented another obstacle to his lovers feared departure. He decided to cave in and allow Peter to plan another one. Besides, the 'honeymoons' afterwards were always great fun.

"Hmm, you are so good at that." Peter complimented him "Any way, as I was saying, there's this cruise ship with twenty-five other couples getting hitched. But wait - get this! They're all Elvis impersonators! So I thought..."

Egon groaned and hid his face in Peter's shoulder. When would he learn? When would he ever learn?