CH. 02: Settling in [Spengler Classics 101]
taglist: @boneless07 @egonspenglersweetie @lunadensmidnightprowl @twinkiethievery
When you first became aware of the insides of your eyelids the following morning (you assume), you had forgotten everything. Well, not forgot–it registered as a very strange pipe dream, nothing more. But when you breathed in that same unfamiliar scent, felt the slight starchy stiffness of the sheets covering your form and the heat of the light streaming in from the now-uncovered window, your whole body seemed to stiffen. You didn’t want to open your eyes and confirm it, but eventually you had to.
“Morning, sunshine,” chirped a dulcet male voice from nearby.
Once you’d rubbed the sleep from them and opened your bleary eyes, you eventually focused on the form of Ray, whom was still clad in the gray sweatpants and white undershirt he had apparently worn to sleep; he was sitting on his bed, wearing his reading glasses, hair still tousled heavily from his rest.
“Hey, Ray,” you mumbled, sitting up.
You didn’t catch the way he grinned when you said his name, or how his heart skipped. You stretched and yawned.
“Whatcha doin’ in bed still? What time is it?” you asked.
“Only ten thirty,” he replied; it was then that you noticed the stack of books sitting on his night stand, scattered across his bed, all laying open. Different novels and tomes, old and new.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on you, and researching what I can on interdimensional rips and rifts in spacetime. Egie and I agreed it’d be best to kill two birds with one stone and just read up here. He, Winston and Pete are out on a bust. How was dinner, speaking of?”
The memory of the evening came rushing back to you, and you felt an unfamiliar warmth in your core: a fluttering, something akin to butterflies but calmer. Fondness, perhaps, for the recollections of the night before. You looked at the wilted chrysanthemums on the nightstand beside you.
“I don’t remember the name of the place, but the garlic bread was orgasmic,” you informed him.
He nodded sagely.
“Sounds like Panucci’s. Nice place. Great food,” he surmised, running a hand through his wild hair, taming it only slightly.
For a moment, as you often liked to do, you simply took in the world around you. The air was warm but not unpleasantly so. It was bright inside the room. Due to the pipe that Ray had been smoking on occasion during his perusal, a shroud of smoke lingered in the room, tinging the air with motes of light and the scent of burnt tobacco. Sweet and spicy and earthy. Ray looked good, you admitted to yourself, sitting there with his legs crossed, perusing the library he’d collected around him. For you, no less. He did look a mess, but managed to make it seem endearing. He just looked…well, snuggly. The films didn’t do him justice, you think to yourself. Being around him made you feel warm, and safe; it was hard to explain, like a calming aura exuded from him. Something that could only be felt when he was nearby. You got lost for a moment, fantasizing spooning the scientist before you, or perhaps being spooned by him. You bet he's warm as a furnace.
“Did he pull any cheap moves on you or did he behave?” he frowned.
He immediately looked like he felt regret at his question, but lightened slightly when you laughed, grateful to be shaken from your trance.
“Well, it’s Peter. What do you think?”
“I should have known,” he groaned, “I’m sorry for leaving you alone with him. He can’t help himself around beautiful women--”
He looked caught all of a sudden, and clamped his mouth shut, burying his nose in a copy of Spates Catalog. Maybe, he seemed to think, if he didn’t blather on to correct his misstep, you wouldn’t point it out. Heat rose to your cheeks nonetheless, only half as red as he was in that instant.
“Ho-how are you feeling?” he stuttered out, forcing casual tones, clearing his throat, never lowering the book for a moment.
You kicked your legs over the edge of the bed, feet not touching the floor. You leaned forward and reached for your toes, reveling in the release as your spine popped and crackled in reply.
“I feel okay,” you grunted, “better than yesterday. This is still wild to me, don’t get me wrong, but I wanna make the best of it all while I'm here.”
It was then that the book came down some, revealing a grin that could put the sun itself to shame in terms of warmth.
“That’s what I want to hear!” he exclaimed, delighted at your perceived optimism.
You couldn’t help but smile back as you laid crossways on the width of the bed, letting your legs dangle still as you stretched your back in the other direction. More crackling caressed your ears as the endorphins flooded your brain; you barely registered the groan of contentment that escaped you very quietly, but Ray certainly took note.
“I’ll bet Egon will want you in the lab later on when they get back, if he doesn’t crash on sight of his bed. Are you hungry in the meantime? I’m real good at scrambled eggs and toast. That’s about the only thing, and none of the toasters since '89 have made it longer than a month without getting blown up or used for an experiment, so it'd be coat hanger toast, but that's my specialty, I’ve been making it since...college...heh…” he trailed off with a chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck.
“I appreciate your enthusiasm, Ray,” you smiled serenely at him, earning a big, boyish grin in return, “but I don’t wanna put any more on you than I have to. I can feed myself.”
You stood then, taking the hair tie off of your wrist that you forgot was there; a ring of indented flesh, angry and red, throbbed in response to newfound oxygen flow. You ran your fingers through your hair in an effort to work out the knots that had formed in your sleep. Ray’s eyes didn’t leave you as you arched backward to secure your hair. He seemed entranced for a moment, until your eyes found his own mismatched irises, focused on you yet glazed over serenely; he looked away quickly, bashful all of a sudden at being caught.
You wandered over and sat on Egon’s still-unoccupied bed, directly beside Ray’s own.
“I want to earn my keep, too,” you told him, “anything you guys need help with, I’ll do it. Doesn’t matter what. I’m not great at cleaning and I don’t do toilets, but I can for sure cook for you on whatever budget you provide, and I mean whatever. And don’t tell me no,” you warned him mid-sales pitch, catching him as his mouth came open to rebut your offer, which quickly snapped shut again; “I want to do it. I’m not just gonna show up in your universe and bum off of you. I respect y’all too much for that. Plus, all that takeout’ll put you into an early grave and then you’ll be experiencing the job from the other side of the particle beam.”
A sly smile tugged at the corners of his lips; you narrowed your eyes at him.
“What’s funny?”
“Y’all,” he quoted, snickering. “You don’t hear that much ‘round these parts.”
“I don’t like your tone,” you narrowed your eyes at him; he immediately took on the appearance of a punished puppy and apologized quickly. You softened like butter on a hot plate.
“I’m sorry,” he uttered, “I just think it’s kind of cute is all.”
Once again he took on an expression of immediate regret. You reached across the gap between the beds and nudged his arm gently.
“It’s okay,” you smiled reassuringly at him, “I think you’re cute, so it all works out. Kinda.”
His eyes shot wide open with surprise and what you hoped was delight; it paired nicely with the grin that spread from ear to ear across his rounded face. He really was adorable.
“You do? I mean, I am? I mean, you think so?”
You couldn’t help but laugh.
“‘Course, Ray,” you nodded, “you’re the heart of the Ghostbusters, after all, and it’s a title well earned. You’ve got passion."
He couldn’t stop grinning. Something was palpable in the air, though you couldn’t tell what; it was a sort of tension you couldn’t describe, and it didn’t even really feel like tension. It just felt easy, talking to him. Just maybe a little too easy if anything. You didn’t want to stop.
“I guess so,” he agreed with a slight nod of the head, and he reached for the mug of coffee on the nightstand beside him.
“So,” you said after a moment, “is there anything you want me to do right now? I, uh…I need some things, I think. But I don’t want to just ask for money to go get them.”
His mind seemed to run away for a moment, and his eyes glazed over in thought briefly before his head shook just a little, and his gaze found yours again.
“Well, we’ll figure something out, I’m sure. I’ll bring it up to the others when they get back. But in the meantime, we’ll take care of you. What kind of things do you need?”
He set his book down and focused fully on you then, folding his hands politely. You suddenly felt sheepish for some reason.
“Oh, just…basic stuff. Clothes, hygienic personals, that kind of thing. Essentials,” you nodded, only partly to affirm to yourself that you could not simply wear the same pajamas for the indefinite period of time you faced here.
Ray scoffed, giving you a crooked grin.
“Oh, that’s no worry at all. We could go to Macy’s if you want. Or anywhere. You name it, we’ll go,” he assured.
You stood.
“Can I cook you breakfast or anything first? Y’all–-you guys–had a hard night last night, I’m sure,” you corrected yourself, and his face fell slightly; maybe he wasn’t poking fun after all, but after a lifetime of being teased for even the slightest of your twangy mannerisms, you were always wary.
“Nah, unless you’re hungry–I had some Eggos,” he shook his head, figuring his response sufficed, “I’m good for a while.”
He picked up the pipe that sat by the coffee and the pack of matches it sat with, setting a spark to the tobacco stuffed into the bowl and taking a few puffs. He exhaled through his nose and mouth at the same time; smoke poured from him from what seemed to be every facial orifice. It looked kind of neat. He looked up at you. The scattered light caught his eyes, illuminating the blue and golden aspects of them, the depth of the tones; one was like whiskey and one was like the ocean, flecked with green and gold…none of the films, any of them, did those eyes justice. You could have easily gotten lost in those eyes and never found your way back; honestly, you wouldn’t mind.
“Do you want to go now, or later?” he asked, interrupting your focus.
“Anytime is fine,” you shrugged dismissively.
“I know that answer,” Ray said pointedly, shaking the wooden pipe in his hand at you for emphasis, “you don’t have to be coy with me, okay? Speak your mind. It’s 1990. We’re there now.”
You laughed then, earning a smile from him; if only he knew. But hey, a solid timeline has been set: 31 years back, and at least one dimension over.
“Do you want to borrow some clothes to wear out?” He asked, changing the subject; “I have some clean stuff if you wanna…if you don’t mind, I mean…if you wanna–”
“Thanks, Ray, I’d appreciate that a lot,” you interrupted the near-set loop he got close to stuck in, and he nodded, scrambling off the bed, careful not to toss the books.
He got into the dresser on the other side of the bed and dug out a shirt and a pair of pants.
“I, uh…I don’t share underwear,” he informed you, trying to be serious.
“I understand completely. I normally forget 'em, anyway,” you responded plainly, earning an unintentional stare from the man beside you.
Before he could reply, you accepted the clothes from his hands and made your way to the bathroom without instruction or direction. He didn’t respond or call after you, even to be helpful in locating your target... You stunned him. Something about that filled you with an ancient-feeling sort of pride. Powerful.
You quickly changed from your own shirt and pajama pants into Ray’s clothes, a plain white long sleeved undershirt and black sweatpants. They were baggy, but you didn’t mind; you took a moment for yourself to take in the essence of Dr. Ray Stantz. Tobacco, of course, and some simple clean soap, and that same weird electrical smell that haunted Peter’s sheets, but something else too; books. Old books. You took a sobering breath in before emerging back into the bedroom, tightening the strings that cinched the waist of the pants until they sat comfortably snug high on your waist so the pant legs didn’t drag under your feet too much. You already had to roll them up a fair way besides, given the height difference. You'd also taken your hair back down and used the elastic tie to knot the baggy shirt at the waist, tucking it up underneath itself into a crop top style, letting just a little bit of skin peek out between the pants and the shirt. Ray’s face reddened again as his eyes darted over your form in his clothing. You saw him swallow hard, and got the notion you weren't the only one who was feeling that nervous fluttering in their guts. It felt weird to be on the other end of it though–not in a bad way by any means, it just added to the aforementioned sense of accomplishment, but still–it was your turn to be sheepish. You wrung your hands together out of nervous habit.
“Do I look okay?” you asked, not looking at him.
“You look great, I mean, wow, you make sweats look incredible,” he answered genuinely; something you loved about him already is that whatever he may have been feeling, he wore it on his sleeve, in his tone, on his face. You could hear the admiration in his voice. It was just like how he spoke about ghosts. You couldn’t help but feel kind of special to earn that sort of response from the man.
You tucked your hair behind your ear and made your way toward the main room of the upper floor; he followed suit, not bothering to swap his sweats for jeans as he normally would, far too eager to show you his city.
It didn’t take long to get what you needed; you, raised to be frugal, insisted you only go to drug stores and the cheaper of the department stores that he insisted on taking you to. You'd managed to procure a decent bra, a few sets of underwear, a coat, some shirts and pants, shoes, and one nice dress (which he insisted on as well, citing the possibility of a formal event taking place—- “you’d be an honored guest of the Ghostbusters, don’t doubt it for a second!” he’d urged, trying on a pair of black sunglasses and a black trilby hat in a mirror as he’d spoken) as well as the usual hygienic needs, such as deodorant and a toothbrush and such; you were en route back to the firehouse by noon.
Ray had done the same thing Pete had done, eagerly pointing out numerous bust sites and favorite haunts, if you’ll excuse the play on words. You'd continued your escapades in documenting your journey, snagging pictures as you were able. During the shopping trip you managed to procure a disposable camera, and switched to it as soon as you could for the sake of blending in. It served you well already, and Ray was more than happy to pose for pictures, alone, together, whether or not a silly hat was involved–but there was always more goofy enthusiasm when there was a hat. You felt like a classic tourist.
He had stubbornly insisted on carrying the bulk of the bags, though you'd fought him and managed to keep hold of a few. It was almost comical, how stereotypical you looked, exiting the cab at the curb by the firehouse–Ray weighed down by shopping bags, you carrying just a few, albeit very clearly miffed about it. He didn’t want to hear it though, and raced you inside, winning only by quite actually bowling you out of the way of the door. When I say the man dropped everything when he heard you yelp in surprise and come rushing to you, I mean it–the look of guilt and concern riddling his face made you feel bad, for godsakes.
“Are you okay?” he wheedled urgently, helping you up and dusting you off, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”
You could no longer resist your most primal urges, and snaked your arms around his torso, gripping him tightly. For a moment his whole body tensed but as soon as he realized what was happening, he eagerly gripped you back, almost popping your spine all over again with sheer strength and enthusiasm. You felt your feet lift inches off the ground. Ray loves hugs. Lesson learned.
“What was that for?” he asked, once he set you back down.
“Just being you,” you responded simply, shaking your head with a smile, “you’re a delight and a treasure to be around, and I sincerely hope you’re aware of that.”
That cute, boyish grin returned, coupled with a rapidly-becoming-familiar pinkish tinge in his cheeks, and he scratched his ear.
“Aw, shucks,” he tittered shyly.
You took a step back, entering the firehouse then. He chased after you, still glowing.
“Oh, hey, Janine,” he noticed the redheaded woman sitting behind her desk, filing her nails.
“Good morning, Dr. Stantz,” she replied in her trademark flat Queensite tone, glancing up briefly once before taking a second look at you beside him, in his clothes. One perfectly manicured eyebrow shot up, curious.
“Good morning, Dr. Stantz’s friend,” her tone carried a hint of mischief now, but her face didn’t really change, save for that quirked brow; she blew a gum bubble and popped it with her teeth, setting the emery board file down then.
You set your bags down by the door and wandered over to where she sat, trying to stay calm.
“Hiya, Janine,” you greeted, unable to fight your smile, “it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Y/N.”
She stared uneasily at your extended hand, and glanced back at Ray, who nodded behind you; she accepted it then and gave a light shake.
“Enchante,” she replied flippantly.
Ray cleared his throat and stepped forth.
“Janine, Y/N is living, walking, talking evidence of a parallel universe to ours,” he said, poorly containing the excitement in his tone, “she literally materialized in the firehouse last night! Right here on our home turf! Isn’t that neat?!”
Janine offered a smile, picking up her nail file again.
“That’s really fascinating, Dr. Stantz,” her tone was slightly blasé; he didn’t seem to notice nor care, simply happy to be heard, and carried on upstairs.
You remained behind and continued to look at Janine.
Her hair was sideswept and voluminous, falling slightly past her ears now though still remaining that trademark coppery auburn red, and she had traded her bulky reading glasses for a sleeker pair of red cat-eye specs. Her keen and unique sense of fashion hadn’t changed beyond that; today she wore a black and white houndstooth peplum business suit with her signature red stockings and a set of black kitten pumps.
“You’re even more fabulous in person,” you gushed to her.
The smile she gave now felt more genuine; almost embarrassed. It was cute on her.
“Thank you,” she cooed. “Will you be sticking around for a while? It’d be nice to have a fresh face around here.”
You nodded.
“I think so,” you sighed softly, “Ray was serious. I’m, uh, not from here, or from…now. But they’re working on it. We’ll get it figured out.”
“I’m sure,” she agreed, “you've got the best of the best on it... Are those Dr. Stantz’s pants?”
You glanced down, only remembering just then that you were indeed wearing borrowed clothing, and shrugged.
“Yeah. Shirt, too. Kinda goes with the whole interdimensional time/space rift thing. Didn’t exactly have time to pack a bag.”
She actually laughed then, a real laugh; it was like music. Janine Melnitz was an absolutely enchanting woman, and if Egon didn’t shoot his shot with her soon, you were liable to try.
“You know,” she spoke, “I’m usually very psychic, you see. I think Dr. Stantz likes you.”
You blushed at her words, but waved a dismissive hand.
“I’m sure he’d give anyone in the Five Boroughs the clothes off his back if they asked nicely enough, let’s be honest,” you refuted, “he’s just bein’ nice like Pete was last night too.”
“Oh? What did Dr. Venkman do for you?” She crossed her arms over her chest, raising that eyebrow sky high once again; her tone had inflected that same suspicion everyone seemed to get when Venkman was brought up.
“He took me to, uh…Panucci’s? I think that’s what Ray said he thought it was…?”
“With the garlic bread?” She gasped.
“The best,” you confirmed.
Both eyebrows were raised now in shock.
“I heard my name,” Peter popped up like a prairie dog over the top of the filing cabinets and wooden partition that separated his ‘office’ from Janine’s, and moments later he hopped the swinging wooden gate in one fell hurdle, stabilizing about ten inches from your side.
“Morning, Pete,” you smiled at him, “how’d you sleep?”
“Like shit,” he replied simply, “I think next time we really ought to just take one for the team and spoon like the good Lord intended. How ‘bout you, doll? Have a good roll in my sheets?”
Janine stared between you and him and said nothing. You could tell she was living for this.
“Oh, I slept like a rock. I woke up thinking maybe all this was a dream, you know,” you answered; something about Peter despite all his flippancy and mischief just made you feel like you could tell him anything and he would guard it under pain of death.
He nodded, stroking his chin, looking thoughtful.
“Mhm. Would you like a pinch, perhaps, to confirm or dispel this fascinating theory?”
You swatted at him playfully and he dodged like a gazelle narrowly missing the deadly paw swipe of a lion. He really was quite agile when he wanted to be. It was then he noticed the shopping bags on the hood of the Ecto-1 where you'd left them. Ray had disappeared upstairs, probably to try and find a place to store the things you had purchased. Peter began to dig through the contents of the plastic, and lifted the black unlined lace bra you'd found for a steal on sale in just your size with a low, husky whistle, holding it up to his chest, modeling it.
“This for anyone special?” He asked, looking back at you with a twinkle of mischief in those hooded eyes again; a grin played at the corners of his cherub-like mouth.
“Maybe so, maybe no,” you replied, snatching it from him and stuffing it back into the bag, “it’s no business of yours anyhow.”
He grinned at you. It was then that you registered the volcanic heat radiating from your face; that’s what he was so damn smug about.
“We’ll see,” he simply answered with an innocent smile, "I could wiggle my way into your heart yet—you never know, sunshine."
You rolled your eyes at him fondly and absconded upstairs with your new belongings. Thankfully he didn’t chase after you, but you found yourself colliding directly into Ray’s chest as he was about to venture down the stairs. You stumbled and almost fell backward, but his arms wrapped tightly around you, stabilizing both of you in an instant; he hesitated to release you but did after a brief moment to make sure you were alright and stable. There were a lot of stairs to fall down. He didn't want you hurt.
“Sorry,” you breathed, “Peter caught me and started flirting again.”
“Want me to hit him? I will,” he urged, furrowing his unkempt brows.
You shook your head.
“No, not yet,” you laughed, and the tension in his shoulders slacked; "I'll let you know though."
“Damn,” he hissed, ever so softly. You caught it though, and laughed; the irritation on his face softened as he glanced down at you.
“So, uh, where do you want me to...set up shop?” you asked, changing the subject; he looked at you curiously for a moment before piecing two and two together.
“Oh, uh, we had an extra bed disassembled in the basement. Egon uses it sometimes but he’s always got his actual bed up here when he decides he wants it. The bedroom can technically fit up to six beds, we just never needed the extras...well, ‘til now. He was setting it up in there for you, matter of fact,” he answered, pointing a thumb back toward the bedroom area.
You nodded and wandered in there; Ray continued downstairs to do whatever he’d set out to do. Egon sat on the floor of the bedroom, hunched over a pile of loose materials. A mattress leaned against the wall nearby; he had rearranged the beds and accompanying furniture to accommodate a fifth set, and was in the process of assembling the final bed structure when you entered. The radio was on, playing softly, simply background noise against the silence. He didn’t even notice you walk in, or creep up beside him; you didn’t mean to scare him, but...
“Hey, Dr. Spengler,” you greeted; he jumped two feet in the air easily.
Once he whirled around to see it was just you, he still seemed slightly wary; or, rather, just his usual amount of tension.
“Hello,” he robotically responded.
“How you holding up? Did you sleep?” you inquired.
“Oh, no,” he dismissed, “I’m not allotting myself time to sleep until tomorrow at 4:43AM until 5:12 for the purpose of a study I’ve been running.”
You frowned at him, noting the deep set bags under his dark brown eyes, which seemed to bore holes into you through his round wire framed spectacles. Even sitting down he seemed to loom over all before him.
“That’s not healthy,” you informed him softly, “trust me, there are lots of studies that go to show it. They learn a lot about it between now and the 2020s.”
He made a slight face of doubt, but didn’t rebut your statements.
“How are you feeling?” He asked, flipping the script onto you now.
You frowned slightly.
“Well, I’m okay right now. Just wondering, still…lots of questions.”
“That makes two of us,” he replied, picking up a hex key and bolting a few pieces together; you knelt beside him and silently offered your assistance.
“When I’ve finished here, I’d like you to come with me to the lab. There are tests I’d like to run. Physical, mental, emotional and parapsychic. It may take a while, so I hope your schedule for today is clear.”
Something you loved all your life about Egon was the way he was funny without being obvious about it: he was a very subtle man in many ways, but the look he shot you, that slow spread of a devious half-grin, the nostril flare, the eyebrow quirk: it was all very Spengler Classic. You snorted a little in response.
“For you, Dr. Spengler, my schedule is always clear, whenever you want it to be,” you informed him.
Another Spengler Classic presented then; a faint bashful smile, an aversion of those dark brown eyes.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he uttered softly, returning, still slightly smiling, to screwing the bed together.
You remained seated beside him.
“I appreciate it. And I told Ray earlier, but I wanted to let you know too, I’m willing to do whatever I can to help y’all out. Whatever you need, picking up shifts for Janine so she can get a break, though I’ll admit I have no idea how to be a secretary…or a lab assistant, but I’m willing to learn whatever I can to be as little of an inconvenience to y’all as possible.”
Egon didn’t look up, but looked over briefly at the toolbox beside you; you noted the shape of the heads of the screw he was employing, and provided him with the appropriate driver for the job.
This earned one raised eyebrow, for a brief moment, and a silent ‘thank you’ nod. His long, nimble fingers made quick work of the bolts in question. It was the last leg on the bed frame, and between the two of you, flipping it upright was a breeze. He himself placed the mattress upon the frame, and placed the folded set of sheets he’d apparently had at the ready upon the barren fabric. He took a step back to inspect his work, and after a moment of self-appraisal, he turned to you.
“Thank you for the offer. If Ray didn’t already say it, welcome to the team. We likely won’t have you go on any busts, currently, but I’m sure Janine will be delighted to hear we finally got some relief for her,” he offered a small smile to you and began to gather up the loose tools scattered around into the box, and once that was done, he snapped it shut.
Even the toolbox was white with the No Ghost insignia on the lid. How precious are they, y’all?
You nodded to him and stood, eclipsed by him even at your full height by at least a head and shoulders. The smile he had faded then and his brow furrowed slightly.
“Are those Ray’s clothes?”
You faltered.
“Yeah…Better than nothing, right?” You tittered nervously, but that seemed to quell him decently enough; he shrugged lightly and adjusted his glasses.
“I suppose. Are you ready for the testing? I hope you haven’t eaten anything in the last 12 hours,” he added offhandedly.
“As ready as I’ll ever be, doc,” You sighed; he nodded and you exited together.
You'd left your bags on your bed.
My very own bed in the Ghostbusters firehouse. Holy shit.
It was all you could think about and you practically floated down the steps behind Egon; he seemed not to notice, too focused on the calculator he’d produced from a pocket somewhere and tapped away at with fervor. Janine watched as you followed him around to the set of stairs that led down.
“Janine, please clear my schedule for the day,” he called simply.
“What for?” She inquired.
“I have a battery of tests to run on Y/N,” he replied, already a few steps down the stairwell, voice fading as he went; you hesitated and looked at Janine with doubt, but nodded to confirm his reasoning.
“If I see you again in one piece, it’ll be a miracle,” Janine told you, looking at you over the tops of her glasses with a mixture of warning and concern.
You swallowed hard and descended below with hesitance.
The basement was merely the basement; there was a wooden desk, yes, Egon’s usual workspace, but the main purpose of the room seemed to be storage and containment–specifically, ghost containment. The ginormous canvas that once housed the spirit of Vigo the Scourge of Carpathia and now held a romantic renaissance style portrait of the Ghostbusters half-cloaked in colorful silks in artful poses, surrounding baby Oscar on a cloud, now leaned against the wall. The ‘Fettuccine Edition’, some called it. You admired the ghostly brushstrokes that, as far as this universe was concerned, no human hand ever painted. But there was a masterful capturing of lighting and color, even if perhaps the rippling musculature on the men was a bit exaggerated…
You turned from the painting, meaning to come study it further later on, and wandered to the Ecto-Containment Unit. It was so much bigger and more beautiful in person.
“A whole other world in there,” you uttered, wandering up close to it; Egon flinched slightly when you raised a hand to touch it, likely still traumatized from Walter Peck’s poor decisions and the resulting attempted murder Egon nearly committed that fateful day in 1984.
You stroked the cold red-painted metal surface of the ECU and stared at the blinking lights and switches. The green light shone overhead, and you stared up at it with sheer wonder. You couldn’t imagine ever designing something like this.
“I’m no scientist, but…wow, she’s gorgeous,” you sighed dreamily.
Egon smiled that Spengler Classic cocky smirk, but alas, you missed it.
“Thank you. The ECU was a joint effort between Dr. Stantz and myself.”
“Did you have to use special metals for paranormal conduction and psychokinetic resonance properties?”
You had always wondered, and now seemed like a good time to ask.
Egon blinked at you for a moment, and you turned to look at him; he seemed rather surprised.
“Yes, actually. But the metallurgy has always been more Ray’s area of expertise. I have a layman’s grasp on it but his notes and research on it are stellar. I mainly handled the nuclear and molecular aspects of the prototypes and resulting equipment.”
“Fuckin’ radical,” you gushed, grinning at him.
His ears began to turn pink; his nostrils flared, and that smirk crept across half his face again.
“Thank you,” he said, clasping his hands behind his back.
After a brief moment of awkward tension, he cleared his throat and began to gather items he needed.
“We’ll need to go back upstairs, all my equipment is up there. I just needed my measuring tape and Geiger counter.”
You nodded and pulled away from the ECU, following his long legs up the stairs. You couldn’t help but stare after him for a moment, eyes flickering back to the Fettuccine; you smirked and began treading up the steps.
So far the hardest part of this whole journey has been the amount of stairs you face now. You lived on ground level back home, in a valley. You're gonna have buns of steel by the time you leave.
Hours later, you were laid out across the upstairs dinner table/laboratory desk like a frog set to be dissected, arms crossed burial style over your torso, covered (and I mean covered) in telemetry sticky pads and wires and probes. Your heartbeat sang to you over the monitor beside the desk, and your brainwaves blinked on the monitor below it. In the last 7.5 hours you'd seen a scan of your own brain and bones, witnessed the back of your eyeballs, had blood drawn, done fatigue, stress and standard cognition tests, and so much more. So many questions. So few answers.
Egon placed a hand on your thigh to steady himself as he waved the PKE meter over your body. Neither of you verbally acknowledged the spike in your heart rate when he’d done so, but you're sure he noticed; that ghost of a smirk returned to the corner of his mouth though he seemed to fight it.
“Dr. Spengler,” you blurted out, “I think I need a break.”
“Good idea,” he nodded, and began to gently pull the suction cups and sticky pads off your skin, which was much more exposed than you'd cared for it to be.
His fingers brushed your neck as they'd removed the sticky pads from the top of your ribcage, just below your collarbone, and headed up for the ones on your face, and you shuddered below his touch. It wasn’t necessarily the fact that you'd wanted Egon Spengler since you could recall, though never truly thinking he’d be touching you physically in person ever in your life; your neck was also generally just very sensitive to touch. You hated contact with your neck, mostly. You tended not to wear necklaces or turtlenecks or anything of the sort, you feel like you can’t breathe when you do, but this was perturbing for other much less negative reasons. Okay, it was partly touch starvation. You tried not to look him in the eye.
Once you were fully disengaged from the laboratory equipment, you scooted off the surface of the desk and pulled the hem of your shirt back down where it belonged. It was baggy on you, of course, but you needed your hair tie for, well, your hair. You had been hot and flustered for more than a while.
“Did we learn anything?” you asked, trying very hard to keep your breathing steady; you felt dizzy, standing up for the first time in hours, but steadied yourself with a hand on the table until the passed.
“Nothing conclusive,” Egon sighed, frowning at the clipboard in his hands; “I’d hoped we could find some physical anomaly but you seem perfectly fit, if not a bit hot to the touch.”
Too hot to handle, too cold to hold.
“You’re harboring a lot of psychokinetic energy, though. It’s like you exist on a slightly different frequency from the rest of the world. That’s not surprising, given the course of events so far, but it also tells us nothing about what or who caused this, or how to fix it."
You sighed heavily, and ran your hands through your hair. The crinkling of cellophane tickled your ears, and you looked up; before you was a hand outstretched, offering an individually wrapped Hostess Twinkie. Egon Spengler did not share snacks, save for very particular occasions; now, it seemed to be for consolatory purposes.
“Don’t worry,” he said softly, “we’ll figure this out. I give you my word."
You pouted slightly but accepted the sweet, nibbling the end off to tongue the cream out. You had eaten them like that since the start of forever, it was just your preferred method; like licking the cream off an Oreo and eating the cookies after.
Egon watched you like you grew a second head. He averted his eyes when yours flickered to meet them. You proceeded with the disappearance of the remaining sponge cake and once the object in question had been removed from the equation, Egon returned to Earth.
“Thank you.” A nod. “Are you hungry yet?” you asked.
Over the course of the last two hours or so at least, Ray and Peter had wandered in to ask about food a few times each; Egon kept shooing Peter away so he could focus, though he didn’t so heavily object to Ray’s presence, who had often made a point to ask about how you were holding up or suggest a theory.
There was one point he ran out just as suddenly as he had entered; Egon had seen a lot of you today. A lot more than you'd expected so soon. But science was what it was, and in this instance, science was intimate and impersonal at the same time. He made no comments one way or the other, though he’d been red in the face the whole time you had to be partially naked, and there at at one point while your arms were up above your head for one of the spectral scans on the battery of tests to be done, Ray had entered with an enthusiastic “hey, guys, how’s it going” before his eyes landed on yours, then darted downward instinctively, and then immediately he turned and left, beet-red, apologizing repeatedly until he simply could not be heard.
You had laughed at that. Ray was so cute. You were sure he was starving by now.
Winston had gone home earlier; every now and again they’d each get to go to their actual places of living, sleep in their own beds, that sort of thing. You found out he’s married! While you can’t lie, you were rather disappointed to know he was spoken for already (as if you'd ever have the balls to ask him out or make a move or flirt) but it made you very happy to know he was loved by someone. Her name was Tiyah–Tiyah Zeddemore. It had a nice ring to it. They were going to see an opera tonight. Winston was beaming all day before he left, so excited.
Man, it must be nice to have someone love you that hard…
“I could eat,” Egon drew you back from your thoughts, and you looked at him.
“Anything in particular?” you replied, still a little dazed.
He paused to think.
“Do you have a specialty?”
“A few,” you nodded. “Is there anything you don’t like, though?”
He shook his head.
“I’m not picky, for the most part. Though I should tell you, I have an affinity for–”
“--mushrooms, yeah, I know,” you nodded, and he looked puzzled only for an instant, “as a matter of fact, you’ll love the future: you were right. Mushrooms become a huge source of alternative protein and open many, many culinary gateways that were previously shut tight to vegetarian and vegan people, as well as expanding the fields of medicine, nutrition, psychology, and tons of other fascinating aspects. It’s really phenomenal, I think. All that being said…philly cheesesteak or meatball sub?”
He looked delighted, in his own Egon way; his expression changed only slightly, his nostrils flared some, and his eyes twinkled; he smiled, even.
“I’ll never say no to a cheesesteak. Peter and Ray have been waiting longer, though. They’ll probably want a say.”
Not long after, maybe thirty minutes, you and Ray returned from the marketplace around the corner with a large brown paper bag full of the necessary components for the unanimously-chosen Philly cheesesteak.
“I can’t believe Winston’s gonna miss this,” he chattered excitedly, “I can’t wait to see your technique! I wonder how much has changed? Is it even the same sandwich?”
“I think it’s the same, Ray,” Peter chimed in skeptically, watching the pair of you tread upstairs to the kitchenette.
Ray turned only to glower at the man momentarily before scampering up behind you; you hadn’t stopped to listen to them bicker. Once upstairs, you found Egon still in the laboratory section of the living area, but he stopped what he was doing when he heard you approach.
“Oh, good, you’re here,” he greeted in a Spengler Classic fashion, still as monotone as ever; he immediately came forth and took the paper bag from your arms, making quick work of depositing the food on the counter and dragging you and Ray over to his desk.
“I found a similar case in Albin’s Compendium of an instance in 1842 in Pennsylvania. There were remains discovered in a blown-up mining town, and fragments of a bomb that shouldn’t have existed at the time embedded in the bedrock around, and in, the corpses. The negative energy has continued to manifest in the town and the fires in the coal mines below still burn to this day.”
Another Spengler Classic was the strong undercurrents of excitement when he was talking about something horribly morbid. Death, plague, disease, murder, all aspects dark and deadly seemed to bring a mad eagerness forth, whether he realized it or not you were never sure. But he was doing it then; he fought a smile the whole time he spoke and his eyes glimmered with a sick delight. To be fair, the more he talked, the wilder it (and he) got.
“To make matters stranger, once the remains that seemed to be the deliverer of the bomb were pieced together, by evidence of uniform scraps—buttons and such, and equipment alike, it appeared to be a Nazi footsoldier. There’s no plausible explanation as to how this took place, or why, of course.”
You and Ray peered at the open book on the table your body had previously occupied; the yellowing pages showed a sepia-toned old picture of the artifacts mentioned, among fragments of the bomb that indicated its design. It was all definitely World War II era materials, and the swastika-bearing eagle on the warped metal badge in the photograph was unmistakable. Ray and Egon exchanged a meaningful, wordless glance, and then looked at you.
“This is huge,” Ray spoke, his tone low and conspiratorial but he was sheerly elated at the find, “we’re on the right track now, I feel it, Spengler!”
It was then that Peter tapped his way up the stairs. You took that as a good break point to start cooking.
Ray and Egon chattered amongst themselves about his discovery; Peter sat in a chair and watched you sauté the beef, peppers, mushrooms and onions; Ray and Peter didn’t want mushrooms, so you gave the extra to Egon. By the time the provolone cheese, cut thick, had melted on the top, they’d all gathered around to watch it bubble as if it were something magic. It didn’t take ten minutes for them to devour the sandwiches, as well as the potato chips you'd gotten. Another ten minutes did in the cheesecake, and then, all were laid back in overstuffed bliss.
“Cancel the tests,” Peter grunted, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression as he looked at you, “destroy the evidence, we’re keeping you here forever.”
“If only,” Ray commiserated with a forlorn, wistful look at you as well.
Egon was still savoring the last bites of his cheesecake, and so said nothing, but gave a concurring mumble and a nod in your direction; you figured there was a compliment somewhere in there.
“I’ve never been loved like this,” Peter continued, gazing at you lovingly.
You giggled, which surprised even you. Peter looked quite pleased at that.
“Well, get used to it,” you replied pridefully with a wink, and stood, clearing the table.
Thankfully, the guys were fans of disposable tableware; it cut down on dishes, and so all you had to actually wash were the dishes from the cooking. A cutting board, a knife, a sheet pan, a skillet, and a spatula. You had it done in five minutes’ time, and by then, the table had been overtaken once more by books and equipment as it was before the great feast. Stantz and Spengler sat arm-to-arm at the table, sipping cold beers, Ray smoking, sussing out what they could find about that Centralia Crossrip, as they called it. Peter had sat still long enough to smoke a cigarette and drink half a Pabst Blue Ribbon himself before calling it a night. It wasn’t super late, to be honest, but it’d been a while since he’d had a meal that big, or that good.
Once everything was taken care of, you decided a shower was in order. You shambled into the sleeping quarters and to your still unmade bed, past Peter, who was perched upon his own bed, perusing a magazine he’d presumably purloined from Ms. Melnitz. You felt his eyes on you as you gathered up your pajamas, towels, and your bag of hygiene products…you tried not to mind him, but you did glance at him a few brief times; each time, you just barely caught his eyes flickering back to the magazine in his hands. He’d clear his throat, and mumble something about something or other, incoherent. You rolled your eyes and wandered into the showers.
You turned the taps on the farthest shower in the corner of the room, trying to feel out the right temperature. Once it was hot enough for your taste, you stripped to your birthday suit and decided it was worth the battery expenditure to play music on your phone for a short while. Once you were satisfied with the selection (“Higher and Higher” performed by the ineffable Jackie Wilson) you took a deep breath and stepped into the streaming water.
Even this experience felt different. You felt very small, and not just because the shower was huge. You let the water hit your skin, breathed in the steam, began your ritual. You could only hope your skin didn't disagree with the water hardness or having to completely change your entire lineup of soaps and scrubs; you kept as close as you could, save for a few scent choices. Honey vanilla will be your signature scent here. You sang as you scrubbed, enjoying yourself well enough. The next track to play was “New Invention” by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME–exactly like that, yes–and with it the mood changed slightly. You loved this song. It felt very sensual, kind of spooky, generally it tickled your brain in all the right ways. By the time that track ended, you had just rinsed the last of the conditioner out of your hair, and gave your face one last quick scrub with just your hands and the water. You shut off the taps and collected your towel, doing the flip-and-twist wrap technique to secure it atop your head. You made your way to the sink and mirror, wrapping your body in another towel, still dripping wet; steam rolled off the exposed parts of your skin. You suppose you may have run it a little hot. Oops.
You brushed your teeth and toned and moisturized your face to “Flip City” by Glenn Frey.
“Wake me when it’s over, tell me I’m alright,
Tell me it was just a dream, a dream I had last night–
I can hear the spirits now, moving underground
I can feel them closing in, about to drag me down–"
You sang along, drying yourself off more thoroughly now that everything from the neck up was taken care of. As always, the natural moisture retention of the skin made it slightly difficult to pull the black tank top you had chosen for a night shirt over your chest, and it stuck to your back, rolling up on itself instead of simply scooting down like it should have. Lazy and now quite sleepy after a hot shower and all that food, you simply left it half rolled down your midriff; the important bits were covered, you figured. You wore those same comfortable red buffalo plaid pajama pants from your own realm. A comfort from home. Once you were dressed, you turned your phone off and took a brief moment to inspect yourself in the slightly steamy mirror. You looked tame enough. You wandered back into the dormitory, and found Ray and Egon had joined Peter there; they were still discussing findings in scientific dialogue neither you or Pete could keep up with if you tried, but when you walked in, all eyes fell on you. You glanced quickly between the three of them; they all seemed focused, at least for the brief moment your eyes were on them, on your exposed stomach. You crossed your arms over yourself and frowned.
“Y’all act like you’ve never seen a gut before,” you grunted, slinking over to your bed, which was across from Peter’s, placing Ray’s clothes and your wet towels in the laundry bag you had procured. It was undoubted you were flushed red from the heat of the water, yes, but now it was for all sorts of reasons other than that. Particularly the way Egon smirked at you. Well, not at you, necessarily, but while looking at you; when you spoke, however, they all averted their gaze…except Peter, unsurprisingly.
“It’s been longer for some of us than others,” he quipped, amused.
Egon shrunk slightly. Ray blushed a dark pink.
“That's not a crime, you know,” you chuckled at them, tugging the bottom of the shirt down where it would normally have been.
They looked at you normally then. Except for Peter. Of course.
“Say, Y/N, do you have a better half back at home?” Venkman asked innocently enough, sitting up and setting his magazine aside to give you his full attention.
You went to start on making up your bed and found it was already made up neatly. The corners were tucked in and everything. The pillow had even been fluffed. A stuffed toy black bear sat upon the sheets.
“Aw, thanks, guys,” you cooed, beaming at them, “who did this?”
Ray gave a sheepish smile.
“I figured it was the least I could do,” he shrugged, “you know. Hospitality.”
You wandered over and placed a delicate kiss on his forehead. He tensed a little, going red again and grinning widely, only more so when you giggled at his response to the gesture of thanks. You returned to your own bed and sat on the wrinkle-free covers, brushing your hair.
“What did you say, Peter? I’m sorry,” you looked at Venkman passively, who seemed a bit miffed now, if only very minutely; you figure people didn’t ignore him often. They probably didn’t get the choice.
“I asked if there was someone special back home. No ring?” He raised an eyebrow, wiggling his left ring finger in your direction for a moment in emphasis.
Egon stuck his nose deeper into the old suspiciously skin-toned patchwork leather bound compendium he was reading as his ears burned, but Ray made no real effort to hide his interest in your answer. You faltered.
“Oh, well…no,” you frowned, “there was someone but…things didn’t work out.”
Peter scoffed. At first you were offended, but he jumped to his feet with purpose.
“Who,” he demanded, striding the three strides it took to reach your bedside and dropping to one knee before grabbing your hand, “and I mean who in their right mind would give you up? I’ll wait the damn thirty years to punch his lights out myself. Or laugh at him. Up to you, really, dealer’s choice. We could make him go away–”
“Peter, please,” you interrupted, bristling so hard that you all but yanked your hand away, “it’s a sore subject. It’s been a long time but…please. I don’t want to talk about it further. Take the no and run wherever you’ll go with it.”
He frowned, and the room was suddenly rather tense.
“Understood. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Peter said softly, giving your knee a gentle, apologetic pat, standing up.
You grabbed his hand as he turned, and he looked back at you.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, “I just…sorry.”
“Hey, it’s no skin off my nose,” Peter replied, smiling softly at you; he didn’t seem upset in the least, “I shouldn’t have pried. But I mean what I said. Whoever you end up with one day is one lucky bastard and if they don’t know it by the time they’ve seen you for the very first time, I’ll tell them myself.”
You chuckled; you only realized then that you almost started to cry. You tried not to draw attention to the lump in your throat. Peter ruffled your still-wet hair, gagged dramatically at the wet and cold sensation, wiped his hands all over the back of your shirt. You knocked him over, and he tumbled back onto Winston’s unoccupied bed. You descended into a fit of giggles.
“Give the rest of us a chance, Pete,” Ray pouted from his bed.
Peter looked at him and gave him an expression of a man who knew he was too blessed to exist, but didn’t plan on looking a gift horse in the mouth, if you get his drift. You found yourself rather red in the face.
“I’d fight someone for you,” Ray told you, nodding with conviction, “And I find out anyone hurts you while you’re here and they’ll deal with not just me, but all of us, right, Egie?”
Egon, startled at his being dragged into the conversation, looked up frightfully, but seemed to concur.
“Yo,” he declared deeply, raising a fist partway into the air in solidarity.
You burst into another fit of giggles, fixing your hair and setting your brush under the bed for the time being. You sat cross-legged and looked at the men surrounding you.
“Thanks, guys. I appreciate that more than you know.”
They all mumbled their affirmations. You wanted to hug them each very tightly for a very long time, but boundaries are a thing, so you settled for slipping under your blankets.
“It really took no time at all to grow attached to you,” Egon finally spoke, surprising everyone in the room to some degree or another; “in a way it’s very similar to naming a stray animal you started feeding regularly and the resulting increase of trust and happiness in all parties."
“Except this animal feeds you, Spengie,” Venkman rebutted.
Egon faltered.
“Yes. Quite well. Thank you again.”
You nodded and couldn’t help but laugh. He looked so serious sitting there stick-straight in his bed, in his colorful polka dot pajamas, reading his Necronomicon, you assumed. He returned to his book and, with one hand, managed to open and unwrap a Twinkie, popping it in his mouth in mere moments. Swift fingers, you guessed, all that delicate engineering and whatnot. You try not to think about that for too long.
“What’s on the itinerary for tomorrow?” you asked, looking between the men.
“Well,” Ray considered, “Winston comes back at 6 in the morning for another 48-hour run. Pete’s got his day off starting then too.”
“I’ll be around, though, just for pleasure, not business,” Peter winked.
Ray frowned at him.
“That just means he’s sleeping in and won't go home,” he explained flatly. “Spengler’s going to head to the library to see what else he can dig up. I’ve got to check in on The Occult.”
“Your shop?” you tilted your head involuntarily, like a curious puppy.
Ray grinned at you.
“Yeah. Shouldn’t be surprised you knew. Wanna come?”
You nodded; that sunshiny grin got wider. You couldn’t help but smile back at him. Now it was Peter who looked a little pouty. It’s kind of funny to you; it was probably mutual, the amount of attention being received from the opposite sex skyrocketing for all parties save for maybe Peter and Winston in the last 48 hours compared to the last several months, you figure, at least. It had been quite a while for you anyway.
You pursed your lips and watched Ray light up a cigarette, offering the pack to Peter, who accepted; he then reached across and offered it to you.
“Oh, no thanks, I don’t smoke cigarettes. I prefer my herb a little greener,” you mumbled the last bit, politely declining.
Egon perked up like a dog that caught the scent of a sizzling ribeye steak. He didn’t say anything, but you made eye contact, he raised an eyebrow, you nodded a minuscule nod, and that Spengler Classic half-smirk made a brief comeback. You believe you have just made plans to get baked together. There’s no telling till it happens, but you're looking forward to it. Ray and Peter exchanged a look.
“I haven’t done that stuff since college,” Ray thought for a moment, furrowing his brow; “last time, I ate a whole pound of peanut butter fudge and passed out watching Saturday Night Live.”
“Been there, my guy,” you nodded sagely.
“Last time for me was a few months ago with this really gorgeous hippie girl I met on a bust. She remembered me from Columbia. We watched Evil Dead, but I don’t remember any of it.” Peter got a lopsided grin on his face at the thought.
“Last time for me was Tuesday,” Egon chimed in quietly.
The others looked at him with surprise. He averted his gaze bashfully, probably regretting his admission.
“Yesterday, technically,” you sighed.
They all looked at you; Egon’s stare was much less surprised than the other’s.
You stuck your tongue out at Venkman, who looked the most incredulous, and he raised his eyebrows even further.
“Don’t threaten me,” he warned quietly, “I’ll come over there.”
Ray batted Venkman’s head with the Mr. Stay Puft. Pete winced.
—------
THERE IT IS,,, CHAPTER TWOOOO,,, AAAA
i hope y’all enjoy ;w; chapter 3 has not begun yet so there will probably b more time between this and that but i have ~plot ideas~ so this has a track to run on which is more than i can normally say for my brain lmfao
reply if you want on the tag list for ch 3! <3
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Safety Net | Egon Spengler x Reader
Hi Everyone! This is my first time writing for Egon and I would be lying If I said I did not thoroughly enjoy myself. Im still figuring out how to use Tumblr, so any tips would be well appreciated. Hope you enjoy :)
Word count: 3.1K
Side note: look how cute our man is in this gif, I cannot deal!!!
******
You grimace as you put your sleeve over your mouth, the smoke from the trap causing you to cough in reaction.
“I Don’t think I will ever get used to that smell” You murmur to Ray as you pass him the trap. You were both currently out of town on a job for an old opera house. The job required you to stay at a hotel last night so you could catch the ghost in question early that morning. The ghost busters usually didn’t accept jobs from out of town, but when the owner of the opera house mentioned a large check, Peter could not say no. Of course, he had no intention of doing the job himself, which was why you and Ray were in the current situation.
“Egon said it has something to do with the negative energy the ghost emit when captured” Ray explained, he also grimaced as he took the trap from you. He brought the trap over to Ecto-1 and threw it in the back before closing the door. “I cannot wait to get back and sleep in my own bed” He sighed.
“Yeah, me too. Those hotel beds were horrible” you agreed as you made your way towards the driver’s side of the car. Ray had drove you both to the location, you thought you would return the favour by driving home. “I’ll make sure the invoice for those rooms go to Venkman, he’s the reason we had to do this job in the first place” You joke.
“Always the same, even in college he always got the best side of the deal” Ray agreed as he got into his side of the car, immediately putting the heaters on after he sat down.”
“Oh please don’t remind me of Peter’s Sorority years, I’ve had enough pain today to last me at least a week” You grumble as you gently rubbed your neck. The ghost you had been hired to capture had a little bit of a nasty streak. Just as you were about to capture it, it had thrown you back into a wall, your neck and shoulder hadn’t felt right since.
Ray chuckled before asking in a concerned tone. “Are you alright to drive? I don’t mind switching”.
“I’ll be okay, an ice pack at home should do the trick” You smiled before turning the car on and starting your journey home. Ray’s selflessness was one of your favourite things about the scientist. No matter what the situation, Ray always offered to help.
******
You firstly met Ray, Egon and Peter around eight years ago at Columbia University. As you walked through the door to your first lecture on parapsychology, you had noticed there was only one seat left available to sit in. Next to the free seat, sat the dorkiest man you had ever set eyes on. He had large round glasses that were definitely a decade out of fashion, but you couldn’t picture him wearing any other style. His slightly curly hair was neatly kept, and you couldn’t help but wonder what routine he used to tame it. The more you stared, the more you admired how beautiful this man was. From the way he had dressed himself in a suit just for a lecture, to the way his forehead was slightly creased due to the front on his face as he read over a book.
You slowly made your way over to the empty seat, hesitating before sitting down. “Is this seat taken?” you asked softly, a small blush covered your cheeks and nose.
The man’s head rose to look up at you, his frown softening as he looked at you. It felt like he had been staring at you for an hour before he eventually cleared his throat. “uh, no this seat is free” he nodded before awkwardly going back to his book.
You gave a small smile and sat down on the stool. As you brought your textbooks from your bag, you caught a glimpse of what the man next to you was reading. “you’re a fan of Joseph Rhine?”.
“Uhh, just a little bit of light reading” he replied hesitantly, as if he didn’t realise you were talking to him at first.
You gave a small nod. “I’m more a fan of Arthur Doyle, myself”
“The sherlock Holmes author?” he asked sceptically.
You gave an enthusiastic nod “Yes, many people don’t know that he actually does research in telepathy and seances too”. Just like every time you talked about anything on the lines of parapsychology, you could feel yourself becoming excited. Your family did everything in attempt to get you to choose a more ‘normal’ degree like English or Biology, but nothing could have possibly changed your mind.
“interesting” he mumbled; his face looked as if it was deep in thought for a moment before he opened up a notebook, and scribbled down the author’s name.
“My name is Y/N, by the way” you stuck your hand towards the man, a gentle smile on your lips. You were trying your best to follow your mother’s advice she had given you on the phone this morning. ‘Any day, is a successful day, if you meet a new friend’.
The man returned a very small smile before gently taking your hand. “Egon Spengler”
“Lovely to meet you Egon”.
What you were unaware of that day, was why Egon had been sitting alone, when in fact his two best friends were sat directly behind him. Peter and Ray were well aware of Egon’s most important rule. ‘I forbid anybody to sit next to me in lectures, talking is a distraction of learning’. Almost every day he had turned people down who were looking for a spare seat, earning his friends to cringe away in embarrassment each time. However, when he had looked at you, something changed. He realised that he, for some reason, would not mind being distracted by you. Of course, he later went home and tried to conduct a full study on why he felt this way, but it took him four years before he later came up with a reasonable conclusion.
Later that day, you were introduced to Ray and Peter, through the expense of Egon being the centre of one of Peter’s jokes. After that day on, the four of you had been close friends ever since.
******
After complaining about New York traffic for at least thirty minutes, you finally drove into the firehouse, sighing with content as you parked the car. “Home, sweet, home”.
As you got out of the car, a floating green blob flew towards you, it’s stick like arms wrapping around your neck.
“Awhh, I missed you too slimer” You chuckled as you hugged the ghost back.
“How come he never slimes you; I swear he has full control of that stuff” Peter grumbled as he walked out his office and headed towards you.
“Oh Peter, are you jealous that slimer loves me more? I’m sure he’d love to come and give you a cuddle too” You joked as you let go of the ghost, a mischievous smirk on your face.
“Don’t you dare” He warned, his eyes narrowing as he spoke slowly.
“Fine, you win this time. However, me and Ray have decided you are getting invoiced for those hotel rooms, after all, it was your call to take”.
Peter struggled to find a reply for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Whatever, just give the papers to Janine, I’m too tired to debate this one out”.
“What’s the matter? You’re not sick are you” You asked genuinely. If needed, Peter normally had the social skills to sell ice to someone who lived in the North pole.
“No, I’m not sick. But considering I’m paying for the hotel rooms, I need to call in a favour from you too” He replied, leaning against the side of Ecto-1 as he spoke.
You stopped unloading the equipment from the back to give him your full attention. “I’m not taking the blame again for you not closing the containment unit correctly”
“You forgot to close the containment unit again!” Ray rushed from behind the car, his face frantic as he looked between you and Peter.
“No! The containment unit is fine! Gosh, what do you people take me for?” Peter replied quickly, finishing the sentence with a scoff. “I’m calling in a favour because Spengz hasn’t left the lab since you went on that call”. He finally explained.
Your heart sunk a little as Peter spoke. It was not unusually for Egon to spend hours at a time in the lab, but you and Ray had been gone for over twenty-four hours. Egon tended to go through stages where he become so fixated on science, his personal health was forgotten to him. He had the potential to go days without eating or sleeping, which often made him ill and even more stressed out for a few days. The boys did their best to encourage Egon to stop working, but it just resulting in them being thrown out of the lab. The boys sometimes called you their “secret weapon” which they would release when things got bad.
You gave a sad sigh and nodded in understanding to Peter. “I’ll try my best” you muttered as you took a bag from ecto-1’s side door. You and Ray had picked up some snacks on the way home from your call that you were going to attempt to use.
You headed downstairs and gently tapped on the lab door before entering. “Guess who’s back” you said cheerily, trying your best to act like you were unaware of Egon’s shenanigans. When you entered the lab, he was sat at his desk, microscope at hand.
“Hey Sweetheart” he said softly, although you could hear the tired undertone in his voice. “How did the call go?”.
“It was just a class three, nothing we could not deal with. Although, it did get a little aggressive at the end” You explained as you came up and hugged him from behind.
He gave a soft smile and rested one hand on your arms that were wrapped around him, his other hand continued to write down his notes from the microscope. “You must be tired from the drive home, why don’t you go and get some rest” He suggested.
“Well, I was thinking perhaps me and you could get something to eat first?” you tried at your first attempt of dragging him from the lab. “We could order from your favourite Thai place.” You bribed.
“That sounds great, but I really need to finish my work on this new slime sample.” Egon replied with a sigh as he continued to work with his microscope. “I really think I’m onto something with this sample, the electrochemical bond is unlike any other we’ve encountered”.
“Oh, okay” you gave a small nod, thinking how this was going to be harder than you thought. “Well, I bought some snack on the way home from the call, we could share them in the meantime?” You suggested as you walked over to grab the bag you had put on the counter.
“I would, but I really need to test the polarity of this sample” He abstained.
“Egon, you taking a five-minute break to eat sugary treats with me will not cause Gozer to raise from the dead.”
This time he finally looked up at you, a million thoughts seemed to be going through his head before he finally said. “Okay, but only a few minutes” He agreed, moving over to the other counter to sit next to you.
‘Result!’ you thought.
You gave him a bright smile and laid out the packets of food in front of you both.
“So, did Peter behave himself whilst I was away?” You joked as you opened as packet of crisps.
Egon hummed. “Peter behaved like Peter, if that answers your question.” He also opened a box of twinkies as he spoke.
“I suppose it does” You agreed. “I also came up with a new theory” You announced.
“And what would that be?”
“Peter actually loves having slimer around. In fact, I think slimer is Peter’s favourite supernatural entity.”
Egon gave a low chuckle and you mentally ticked off another achievement box.
“Are you sure you’re not lacking sleep? That’s the most impossible theory you have conducted” Egon asked with a small smile.
“Oh, I’m exhausted, those hotel beds should be burnt, they were horrible!” You exclaimed. You moved your neck side to side in order to relieve some of the tension. As you did so, your hair moved to the side, giving a plain sight to the side of your neck.
Any humour that Egon had managed to gather instantly left his face at the sight of your neck. Right under your hairline, a purply black bruise began to form.
Your neck and shoulders had been aching ever since the ghost had thrown you back into the wall. You had gotten your fair number of beatings when being on calls, but you always managed to just walk them off. You thought this was just like other times, but you were unaware of how much your neck was bruising.
Egon slowly reached up and brushed the hair from the side of your neck, exposing more of the skin. You couldn’t help but wince a little from the pain.
“What did this to you?” He whispered; his voice barely auditable.
You hesitated a little. “The ghost I said that got a little aggressive, he had a thing for throwing people too” You replied with an award chuckle, trying your best to lighten the mood.
Egon clenched his jaw. “You need to ice this” he mumbled before going over to the lab freezer and pulling out an ice pack. Before he placed the ice pack on your neck, he very gently tied your hair back with the hair tie you conveniently had on your wrist. You tried your best not to wince which caused him to murmur a small “sorry”.
“I’m okay. Honestly, it doesn’t hurt that much” You reassured, taking his place of holding the icepack to the bruise.
He sat back down next to you and gently took your free hand. “Y/N, you should really go and rest.” He told you softly, but with an authoritative undertone. “An injury like this is only going to heal with rest.”
Your eyes softened as you looked at him, really looked at him. The man before you looked exhausted. His eyes were dark but were still looking at you with pure love, His skin was slightly pale and his face had a slightly sad aura. Despite your friends attempts, nobody could persuade Egon to look after himself in the last twenty-four hours, but here he was, fully invested in your health and safety. Oh, the irony.
“Are you in any pain?” He asked sadly, his eyes frowning a little as he noticed your eyes starting to glass over a little with tears.
You slightly shook your head before leaning over and gently placing your lips to his. He seemed to relax at your touch, something that he had developed overtime. “I’ll make you a deal” You whispered as you pulled back to look at him, your face still quite close to his.
He gently rubbed the back of your hand he was still holding with his thumb. He remained quiet, waiting for you to continue.
“I will take a nap and rest my neck, but only if you come and keep me company” You bargained sweetly.
Egon let out a sigh, he looked over his should at the slime sample before looking back to you. “Alright” He agreed. “But you’re keeping the icepack on” He added as he stood up, his hand remaining around yours as he led you upstairs and up to the bedrooms. You and Janine had your own bedroom with two double beds. Meanings that Janine hardly stayed at the firehouse, you and Egon had partly claimed the room for yourselves.
“Now lovebirds, I don’t want to hear any noises coming from that room” Peter joked loudly as you and Egon got to the top floor.
“Oh slimer! Peter said he wants a cuddle!” You yelled loudly with a huge smirk. The distant yelling of peter could be heard as Egon closed the bedroom door.
“I love that little ghost” You beamed as you got a set of pyjamas for you and Egon from the wardrobe.
You both began to change into your pyjamas, Egon having to help you pull your t-shirt over your head due to the pain of your neck. As you got into bed, you gently took off Egon’s glasses and set them on the nightstand on your side of the bed, just in case he got any ideas about going back to the lab. You were a light sleeper and would wake up if he decided to slip out through the night.
Egon wrapped his arms around you as you cuddled up to him, doing his best to avoid your neck at all costs. Just as you were about to drop off to sleep, he mumbled “I’m sorry”.
You gave a small frown and opened your eyes again. “You have nothing to be sorry for” you said almost instantly. You repositioned yourself so you were resting on his chest but looking up at him.
“I didn’t realise I was worrying people again” he said softly, looking down at you as he spoke. It had finally sunk in why you and his friends had been asking him to eat and rest a lot recently.
Your heart almost broke when you realised what he meant. “Oh Egon” You whispered sadly. You reached up and gently kissed his lips, his hand coming up to your cheek as you melted into each other’s grasp. “We all care about you so much” you told him sincerely.
He gave a small nod before softly kissing you again. “Get some rest” he mumbled as he pulled away. He gave the top of your head a small kiss as you repositioned yourself on his chest.
Egon acknowledging why people were worried was the winning streak in your eyes. He was not somebody who needed to be told something many times, as soon as he acknowledged an issue, he would do his best to change things.
“Goodnight, my love”
“Goodnight, Sweetheart”
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Heres something I've been thinking about working on for a while now and I'm finally getting to it. Heres the pilot of it, let me know if you guys want me to make it into a full series (which I might do anyways🧍♂️)
Here's the link on Ao3 for the series if you prefer to read on there :)
Weird Science | Pilot Chapter
[Egon Spengler x Fem Reader]
[Summary; honestly I don't know what I'm gonna do with this, I'll leave the summary to finish later.💀
[Notes; This is a fem reader and it is mentioned quite a bit, this is to make things a little easier to write but I may consider making it a gender neutral reader if enough people want it and ask. [This is also kind of a long one for a pilot chapter.]
[Warnings; Some swearing and mentions of smoking. [Also very very minor mentions of drinking.]
Part 1/? | Next Chapter>
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"Hey, can you hand me that soldering iron please?" I say, holding my hand out.
"Oh course Dr. L/n," Theodore says, handing me the iron carefully.
Theodore Thalmann was a freshman student majoring in Computer Engineering at Columbia University, the very University I've worked at for 7 years now.
Theodore came for an internship to work with me, wanting to learn a little more visually than just reading a book, writing down notes, and listening to some old guy talk, and frankly you couldn't really blame him for not wanting to deal with that.
Theodore was a sharp kid, not lazy like most of these kids now, and willing to learn rather than just be here for some extra credit, that's what you liked about him so much.
"Do you need anything else Dr. L/n?" Theodore asks, writing a bit more into his notebook.
Just then, a knock at the door interrupted your thoughts.
"Yes actually, can you go get that for me?" You reply, taking the protective glasses off of your face.
You get up out of your chair, taking off your black rubber gloves and placing them in their respective area. You liked things organised in your lab, it was much easier to find exactly what you needed, and it was also that you never liked a mess where there was work.
"Is Dr. L/n in here? I need to have a word with her." A voice you were far too familiar with comes from the door where Theodore was standing.
Oh god this can't be good.
"Yes she is, come on in Mr. Yeager," Theodore says, letting the man inside the lab.
"Ms. L/n, pleasure to see you again as always," The man says snarkily.
You turn around and walk towards him.
"Hello Mr. Yeager, come to complain about the music volume again? I promise I hadn't played anything today, whatever you might've heard must've been someone else,"
"No, actually, I wanted to talk to you about something more serious, do you think you can get this student to be somewhere else so its a more private conversation?" The Dean says, smiling sarcastically.
Dean Yeager wasn't exactly fond of you, hense the use of your last name rather than Dr. L/n, regardless of how hard I had worked for that title, but to be quite fair, you weren't very fond of him either, so it was more of a mutual hate. There were probably a lot of reasons why he wasn't very big on you but one of the most obvious had to be the fact that you played your music too loud whilst you worked.
"Of course sir. Um, Mr. Thalmann, would you mind stepping outside for a few moments? Me and Dean Yeager need to speak to eachother in private," You say, turning towards Theodore.
Theodore gives a nod and takes off his pair of gloves, placing them haphazardly on a nearby worktable then stepping outside of the lab, shutting the door.
"So, Ms. L/n, I wanted to inform you that you will no longer be working here at the university, I'm giving you a one month notice so that way you may pack all that you have and get out of here by then, is that understood?" Dean Yeager says, a shit eating grin on his face.
"Excuse me?" You say, after a few moments of silence.
"I said you are out of here in a month, fired, let go of, from the university, Ms. L/n," He repeats, venom laced in his voice.
"But wh-what am I supposed to do about Mr. Thalmann? I can't just tell him-" You stutter, still letting the fact you're being fired sink in.
"We will move him with Professor Dietz, someone that actually has a degree to teach, Ms. L/n". He says, cutting you off.
"But I've worked here for more than five years now, you can't just let me go. I graduated from this very University Mr. Yeager, for what reason do I deserve to be let go?" You say, anger becoming more prominent in your voice as you continue to speak.
"We are letting you go because of the constant loud music, because of the constant loss of electricity on the campus due to your failed experiments, because of your lack of actual necessity and funding of being here, Ms. L/n. We cannot continue to fund and pay you just for you to cause disruptions and only be useful to students if they are working under you as an intern. Even when you do have them, they only complain about how you do absolutely nothing in ways of teaching them, you are the issue Ms. L/n,"
The students don't think I teach them? But they've never complained.
The thought of the past interns you've had having bad thoughts about you and your ways of teaching them hurt more then being fired. Sure, you got good pay from the university and your projects were funded, but the students wanting to come in and learn more about what you just so happen to love was the reason why you were still working there in the first place. And sure you would sometimes blast music whilst showing and teaching them but they never complained.
"The students never complain though, I do my absolute best to teach them Mr. Yeager, I don't underst-"
"That is the last of this conversation, Ms. L/n! You will be out of here in one month, and you will get no more students doing internships with you from right now to the day that you are completely gone from this place! Goodbye, Doctor." Dean Yeager says, walking out of the lab, shutting the door.
After a few moments Theodore comes back into the lab, slowly and gently closing the door.
"Ah Mr. Thalmann, um there's going to be a change in plans for you with this internship unfortunately, I hope you don't mind but you'll be moved to go and work with Professor Dietz starting tomorrow, I do apologise," You say, straightening your back.
Theodore stays quiet for a minute, the air thick with awkwardness.
"What Dean Yeager said about all the other students disliking you and your teaching, I don't agree with him. I like your teaching and don't think its right of Dean Yeager to just fire you like that, Dr. L/n." Theodore says awkwardly, trying to lighten the mood of the room.
"Thank you, Mr. Thalmann, but unfortunately that still doesn't change my situation about my work here. I truly do appreciate all of your help and willingness to learn more, especially from me for these past couple of weeks. You're a great student and I'll be honest, I envy Professor Dietz for getting to teach you," You say, a slight smile on your face.
"Thank you, Dr. L/n, do you need any help cleaning up?" Theodore asks, taking the rubber gloves from the table and placing them next to yours.
"No there's no need for that at all, you're free to go early today, thank you for the help Mr. Thalmann."
"Alright, thank you again for teaching me Doctor, I hope everything else goes well for you," Theodore puts the lab coat you let him borrow folded up onto a clear table, then leaves the lab.
You sit down in your rolly chair, clearly worn out as it was bought almost 8 years ago in the late 70s. Even with its rips and threads sticking out from it, as well as the black soot stains and worn cushions, it was still comfortable and somewhat soothing. It reminded you of when you first started working here, about a year after you graduated from the university. And now that you think about it it makes you a little upset that for the past 12 years now this university is all you knew.
Sure you had your own apartment and went out for groceries sometimes, but you never had friends that you still kept in touch with, so you never really went to bars or parties. And at this point having an apartment proved useless as most of the time you would fall asleep in your lab, you would eat in the university's cafeteria, and after that you would just get back to work and drown every other sound out with music from the radio or your cassette tapes.
You get up and grab your coat, leaving the lab to go outside.
You pat your pockets and pull out the cigarette tin, hoping you hadn't run out of any, and to your relief you had just two more left. Grabbing one out of the tin and placing it lightly hanging from your mouth, then lighting it and inhaling the smoke.
You make a mental note that you'll have to go to the drugstore and buy some more.
"What the hell am I gonna do now?" You mutter to yourself, taking another drag of your cigarette.
"Y/n? Is that you?"
You turn your head to see an old friend you hadn't been in touch with since you've graduated at this university.
"Ray?"
"It is you! Oh am I glad to see you. Its been, gosh, how many years now? How have you been? What are you doing here?" Ray says excitedly, asking a million questions all at once.
"Its so great to see you too, Ray. I've been okay these past years, and I work here actually." You say, giving a light chuckle.
Well, more so like you worked here.
"You work here?"
"Yeah, I've been working here since after we graduated actually, what are you doing in terms of a job?"
"I work here too actually, I'm surprised I never seen you around here. You remember Venkman and Spengler though?" He says, taking a half used cigarette out of his pocket.
"Yeah, how can I not remember Venkman, the guy constantly harassed and flirted with me until I graduated, kinda annoying. But I dont recall ever speaking to or interacting with Spengler though."
"Well I've actually been working with them two for a couple of years now, we're working on some equipment and studies to see if ghosts and entities are actually real, parapsychology you know. It would kinda make sense for you to not remember Spengler though, he was a quiet isolated sorta guy. Mind lending me your light?" Ray rambles on, gesturing for your lighter.
You hand him the lighter, taking another drag from your cigarette yourself as he lights his.
"Oh that's neat, I honestly can't believe that I hadn't known you were here though, I would've loved to talk to you and hang out more after graduation," You say, grabbing your lighter back from Ray.
"We should go out for drinks sometime! It'd be a great way to catch up with eachother, I could bring the other guys too! Maybe all of us could ask you questions about our equipment. Given that I don't really know how to do it and all but you're the one that got a Doctoral in Computer Engineering and'll know a bit more than me, but mostly just to hang out with eachother again, like old times!" Ray says excitedly, a smile on his face.
"I'd love to go for drinks with you guys, not sure I'll be of any much use now though because I've just gotten fired by Yeager and have to move all my stuff out by a month from now, so studying and doing experiments are not something I'll get to work on for a while now," You chuckle, putting your cigarette out on the palm of your hand.
"Oh thats such a shame y/n I'm sorry that happened. It seems like Yeager has got a grudge on you too huh?" Ray says sympathetically, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder.
"Yeah but honestly I totally deserved it. Do you remember those series of blackouts throughout the campus that would happen twice a week? Those were all me and it took him 5 years to get sick of it and finally fire my ass,"
You laugh, now feeling a bit better about the loss, mostly because you get to speak with Ray again.
"I heard from some of the other professors that the cause was coming from the engineering and computer science halls, it reminded me of you in a way and it seems I was right about it!" Ray laughs, letting out a dry cough afterwards.
God, Ray has always had such bad smoking problems. I can't say all that much though because that'd be too hypocritical but that cough is starting to get worse.
You two continue talking a while longer, forgetting how long you've been out there until hearing all the ruckus from the students getting released from their classes.
"I should get going now, Peter and Egon are probably wondering where I went by now. Oh! How can I get in touch with you by the way?" Ray says, turning back around toward you.
"I'm usually over here in my lab but it seems it won't be like that much longer, but here's the number for my home telephone, call me if you need or want to plan anything and if I don't answer leave me a message for my answer box," You say, pulling out a notecard and pen from your pocket, scribbling the number down and handing it to Ray.
"Thanks Y/n, I'll remember to call you later on! Sorry about the whole getting fired thing by the way but I hope we see more of eachother. I'll talk to you later!" Ray says, taking the paper and waving goodbye as he runs off to a different area of the university.
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Once you were back into the lab, you looked around to see what you should start packing. You didn't have much space at your apartment so you would either probably have to rent out a storage unit or call your parents to see if they could store some of it in their attic at home.
First I need to get boxes, and then a bunch of bubble wrap and foam so none of my equipment or computers break. I'll have to go and buy some from the post office.
You go and grab your keys and head back outside of your lab, locking the door before you leave. Walking to your car, you take your keys and unlock the door of it.
As you sit down and turn the key it stalls, taking a few more tries before it finally starts. I really gotta get a new car or at least get it checked out.
You start to drive to the nearest post office, and due to the horrible New York traffic it took you about 20 minutes to get to it even if it was only half a mile away. But thats what you got yourself into deciding to move to one of the most populated states in the US.
You park, grab your wallet, lock your car, and proceed into the post office.
You see the large amount of people in there, checking their post boxes, mailing out letters, and waiting to get their packages accepted to be sent out.
You walk to the area they have the boxes set up, grabbing a few medium sized ones and proceeding to the shortest line so you can purchase them. Once finally at the front, you place the flattened out boxes onto the table.
"Hello, just these and also, do you guys have the big rolls of bubble wrap?" You say to the man at the desk, who already looked far too tired.
The man nodded and pulled out a large roll of bubble wrap, placing it on top of the boxes.
"Is that all ma'am?"
You nod, taking your wallet out of your coat pocket so that way you have your money ready.
The man punches numbers into his machine, looking at each thing on the desk as he does so.
"That'll be $21.47, ma'am."
You take 22 dollars out of your wallet, handing them to the man as he takes it gingerly, placing the bills into the register and grabbing a few coins for your change and handing them and the receipt to you.
You thank the man and take the boxes and bubble wrap with you, struggling slightly at how awkward it was to hold the 10 flat boxes and bubble wrap in your arms.
You open the trunk of your car, putting the boxes and bubble wrap in, just barely fitting to where you can close the trunk door.
God this is gonna suck.
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I literally wrote all of this in about 7 maybe 9 hours total because I just thought up something and was like, "oh yeah, this'll be great," and thats at least what I'm hoping now. I want this to kinda be slow burn and I know that's what I always say when I do series, and I never finish them, but I am really hoping ill be able to do more with this then my other failed attempts at series [if I take longer than a month to get another chapter of this out I want you all to yell at me and tell me to finish it]
[Word count; 2,769
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