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For the Love of Cocoa
by Tammey Reed
"You know, Egon, I'm really beginning to hate hotel busts," Peter huffed, as he ran up yet another flight of stairs. If there was one thing he hated, it was running up and down stairs with his pack strapped to his back."I'm sorry, Peter, but the ghost is too widely dispersed for me to get a proper fix on it with the PKE meter." Egon stopped at the next floor to let Peter catch his breath. "We may have to wait until it properly manifests itself before we can trap it."
"Oh, I'm all for waiting," Peter managed to gasp out. He looked over at the fluctuating patterns on the meter's screen. "Can't even classify it either, huh?"
Egon shut off the near useless meter. "At the present time, no." The physicist shoved his glasses up in annoyance. "At best, I can estimate it between a Class Two and a Class Five. I believe I can rule out Class Seven entities, unless it is a weaker subclass, like a minor Imp, or something of that nature."
The winded Ghostbuster gave his friend a wry look. "Well, that kind of narrows it down some. Thank you, Egon." He began to slowly walk back down the stairs. "Let's talk to the manager. We may have to come back later."
Egon followed him. "I hesitate to bring in Ray or Winston on this. It doesn't seem dangerous enough to warrant their assistance. Still, though, it is rather elusive..."
Peter cut him off. "The day that we can't handle a simple ghost, is the day Peter Venkman cuts his hair off." He grinned. "Besides, it usually runs around at night, so it might be easier to catch, then."
~~~~~
The hotel manager graciously offered to give them a room for the night, free of charge, if they would try to wrap things up before tomorrow. She explained that there was a convention coming in tomorrow night, and she was hoping that the ghost would be gone before then. Peter could never turn down anything for free, so they agreed to stay.
Much later that evening, Egon lay in bed, tossing and turning. After trying for hours to catch the ghost, they decided to rest, and try again later. But sleep eluded the physicist, and soon enough, Peter noticed.
"What's the matter, Spengs?"
"I seem to be feeling restless tonight. No doubt it is caused by the unresolved ghost problem." He glanced at the bedside clock. "I wish the kitchen was not closed. I could use some hot cocoa right about now."
Peter got out of bed, and tossed Egon his clothes. "So let's sneak down there and make some. I'm sure the manager won't mind."
Egon appeared hesitant. "Aw, comon', Egon, it'll be just like our college days. Besides, if we take the meter with us, we can use it as an excuse to be in the kitchen. Whattya say?"
Egon finally relented, and pulled on his clothes. Grabbing the PKE meter, he followed Venkman to the hotel kitchen. Thankfully, it was deserted, and both Egon and Peter set about to find the cooking utensils and ingredients.
Soon, the smell of Egon's special hot cocoa filled the room, and Peter rooted around for some mugs. When he returned, he almost dropped the mugs in surprise. Egon was bent over the pan, still stirring, and hovering above him was a shimmering cloud of energy. Egon stirred on, unaware of the ghost above him.
"Egon," Peter hissed, "don't look up, and don't make any sudden moves. The ghost is here."
Egon froze. "Peter, you must go back upstairs, and get the packs. I should be able to hold it off--"
"No way, I'm not leaving you. And don't give me any arguments, Spengler, I'm not hearing them." Peter looked at the ghost. It didn't seem to be making any hostile moves towards Egon or him. "Don't move, Egon. I'm gonna come closer."
"I would not recommend that course of--" Egon broke off, as he saw Peter already advancing towards the stove, mugs still in hand. Peter moved slowly, keeping an eye on the ghost still lurking above, ready to dodge if necessary. As he approached, he noticed the cloud had backed off slightly, as if getting out of the way of the psychologist. Peter walked up to Egon, and set the mugs down.
Egon released the breath he had been holding, and gave Peter a stern look. "Peter, that was reckless, and unnecessary. What if the ghost had decided to attack you?"
"Then you would have had to run upstairs and get the packs." He flashed Egon a quick grin. "It doesn't seem dangerous right now, only curious. Maybe we can take care of this without the packs." At Egon's quizzical look, he motioned to the mugs. "Just pour the cocoa, and let's see what happens."
The blond Ghostbuster poured two mugs, set them on a small table, and stepped aside with Peter. He went to get the PKE meter, which was on the other side of the stove, but Peter grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Wait," he whispered, "it's moving."
The cloud/ghost lowered itself until it hovered directly over the mugs of cocoa. The shimmering energy intensified, and the cloud condensed in on itself, becoming smaller and more opaque. A cloudy tendril extruded from the ghost, and dipped into one of the mugs. The ghost shivered.
"How about that, Spengs? It likes your cocoa as much as we do." Egon was too busy studying the ghost to see Peter's grin. "What now, Peter? It's going to lose interest in the cocoa sometime."
"Maybe I can talk to it..." Peter stepped towards the ghost, despite his friend's admonitions. "Hey, there!" he called softly. The ghost quickly pulled back its tendril, as if it were caught doing something wrong, and started to back away. "It's okay, you can have the cocoa," Peter soothed. "As much as you want, there's more where that came from."
The cloud/ghost seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, then zipped over, and enveloped Peter. Before Egon could even voice a denial, the ghost invaded Peter, his body seeming to absorb the cloud energy.
Egon rushed for the PKE meter, his face betraying the horror that he felt. If he could only take some readings, then he could--
"Mister...?"
Egon's head whipped around at the sound. The voice that came out was definitely Peter's, but it sounded high and squeaky, like a three year old. The Peter/ghost pointed over at the mugs of hot cocoa. "The nice man said I could have some cocoa. Can I? Please?" There was a pleading look to Peter's face.
Egon nodded, adjusting the meter to Peter's biorhythms. As he took readings, the Peter/ghost drained the first cup, and started in on the second one, a smile of pure joy on his face. Within seconds, that cup was empty too. He held the mug out to Egon. "May I please have some more?" the little boy voice asked.
Egon pointed to the pan that contained the rest of the cocoa. "Certainly," he said, "just pour youself some from the pan on the stove."
Peter/ghost's eyes became huge, and he backed off in fear, the cup dropping from his hands to shatter on the floor. "Oh, no, Mister! My momma says to never touch the pans on the stove! I might get hurt! I can't!" He sat down on the floor and began to cry.
The tall blond hastily put down the meter, and went to refill the remaining mug from the pan. He brought it over to the Peter/ghost, and knelt down next to him. "I'm sorry, I didn't know." He proffered the steaming mug. "Here you are. I'll make more, if you like."
Peter/ghost sniffled a few times, and wiped his nose on his sleeve. He then took the mug, and began to drink. "This is really good, Mister. Almost as good as my Mom's." He sipped a little slower, as it was still too hot. Egon sat on the floor next to him.
"What is your name, please?"
"Kevin," the small voice said.
"Kevin, why are you here?"
Sad eyes turned towards the blond man. "I just wanted some hot cocoa, that's all." The green eyes filled with tears. "Momma told me not to touch the pans on the stove, that she would get some for me, but I didn't listen. I just wanted some cocoa."
Reaching into his pocket, Egon brought out a handkerchief, and wiped Peter/Kevin's runny nose. "What happened, Kevin?" he asked.
After another sip, the ghost continued. "I tried to get the cocoa myself, but I guess the stove was too high for me. And I got the wrong pan by mistake. The one I grabbed was full of hot grease."
The physicist closed his eyes, the image of a horribly burned child etching itself into his memory. He remembered himself as a toddler, trying to get some hot cocoa from the stove, until his mother stopped him. *Don't do that, Spookums, you'll get burned,* she had said. He shuddered at what might have happened. "It must have hurt very much," he said in a quiet voice.
"Uh-huh. Screamed my head off. But then my heart started to hurt, and then I felt nothing at all." Tears started rolling again. "I'm sorry, Momma! I just wanted some cocoa! I didn't mean to get hurt, and leave you all alone! I'm sorry!" Peter/Kevin began to wail in anguish.
Egon, at a loss of what to do, did the only thing he could think of to comfort the crying child. As his mother used to do, he gathered the child to him, and rocked quietly, murmuring reassurances. He failed to see a second ghost cloud materialize, and enter his own body.
"Kevin, Sweetheart?" The tone was still deep, but soft and lilting.
The sniffling stopped. "Momma?" The voice small and hopeful.
Peter/Kevin looked up into a face that was full of love. "Yes, Baby, it's time to come home, now."
The child squeezed his mother tightly. "May I finish my cocoa first, Momma? It's really good." A pause, then, "Not as good as yours, though."
Egon/Mother picked up the mug, and took a sip. "You're right, it needs some cinnamon. But it's not bad." Peter/Kevin took the cup, and finished off the rest. "Can we go home, now?" he asked his mother.
"Hang on tight, Sweetie."
Two glowing energy clouds separated from the men, floated up, and disappeared. There was silence in the kitchen for a few moments.
"Egon?"
"Yes, Peter?"
"You can let go of me now."
The two men separated quickly. They both stood, and began to clean up the mess from the stove, and the shattered mug. "Not bad, Egon. Property damage was at a minimum, this time," he said, holding up the remains of the cup.
"No doubt due to your usual brilliant handling of the situation," Egon said, dryly. Peter buffed his fingernails on his chest. "Modesty forbids that I take the credit for this one," he said. "Besides, I think you handled it just fine."
"Next time, Peter, please don't volunteer yourself for any more possession episodes. I have a hard enough time dealing with you as you are." He looked forlornly at the pan he was washing. "And I never got my cocoa, either."
"Just one of the perks of being possessed by little kids. I get all the cocoa." Peter patted his full stomach, and yawned. "Let's get some sleep, Big Guy. We'll tell the manager in the morning that her ghost problem is officially solved."
They turned off the lights, and headed upstairs. "Next time, Peter, I'm the one who gets possessed, and gets all the cocoa."
"Sure, Egon. Anything you say."
The End