Disclaimer: The Real Ghostbusters and its characters are the property of Columbia Pictures and DIC

Title: Have Meter, Will Shower

Author: Carole

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Spoilers: None

Originally published in Remote Control #18 (Criterion Press)

*feedback welcome*

*****

With his feet propped up on the edge of his desk, his eyes closed, and a wide smile on his face, Peter Venkman was the picture of contentment.

"Doctor V?"

Peter opened his eyes to gaze up at the red-headed woman. "Come to ask if I want some fresh coffee?"

Janine Melnitz sniffed. "Yeah, right." She took a step into Peter's office. "I'm headed downstairs for a few. Can you listen for the phone?"

A glint of amusement sparkled in Peter's eyes. "Sure thing. I'll give you a yell if it rings," he answered with a grin.

"Ha, ha," the secretary retorted, rolling her eyes. She shook her head and headed for the basement, but not before the psychologist saw the answering smile that lit up her face.

"Peter! Ray! Winston!"

The two upended chair legs hit the floor with a bang as Peter bolted from his seat in response to the sense of urgency in Egon Spengler's voice. Crossing the lower level of the renovated fire house in a flat-out run, he ascended the spiral staircase at double time, only slowing down to avoid a collision as he, Ray Stantz, and Winston Zeddemore each arrived at the bathroom door at the same moment. "Egon, you okay?" he called, pounding on the door.

Just as Peter's fist descended to bang on the door for a second time, the door opened. Egon stood there, steam billowing out around his figure. With one hand he gripped the bath towel wrapped around his waist; in the other he held a beeping PKE meter.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked in concern, beating the other two men to the question. Without waiting for a response, he reached out to place a hand on Egon's shoulder. "Are you okay?" he asked again.

The blond peered nearsightedly at Venkman. "Yes, I'm fine." His myopic gaze took in the rest of the team. "Oh, good, you're all here." He took a step back into the bathroom, the other three men automatically following him. "My readings indicate a-"

"Uh, Egon," Peter interrupted, blinking in disbelief. "You took your PKE meter into the shower with you?"

Egon's eyebrow immediately arched. "Of course. How else would I know a Class Two was quickly approaching our location?"

"A Class Two?" Winston repeated. He looked around the room warily.

Peter gave Egon an odd look. "I know you two are close, but don't you think that's carrying it a bit too far?"

Before Egon could respond, Ray moved forward to examine the meter, his eyes wide. "You water-proofed it? Gosh, that's great!" he exclaimed. "Hey, maybe we should-"

"Excuse me," Peter cut in. "Am I the only one that thinks it's a bit strange for Egon here to be standing in the shower in his, uh, altogether, with a PKE meter?" The psychologist glanced at Winston, expecting his support, but the black man was shrugging, his dark eyes twinkling with amusement. There was no need to look at Ray. He knew the occultist would still be bouncing with excitement at the scientific innovation.

"It's a good thing I did, otherwise the entity would have appeared without warning," countered Egon in his own defense. "And while I could have simply placed the meter on the counter, my vision without my glasses would not have allowed me to accurately determine the readings should a threatening situation develop."

"Yeah, but-" Peter was interrupted by the meter as its steady beeping gave way to a ear-piercing shriek. As Egon fumbled one-handed to silence the alarm without losing his grip on the towel, Venkman suddenly remembered the physicist's warning. "Egon, what-"

"Whoa!" Winston cried out, ducking reflexively as a large, purple, roughly pillow-shaped spectre appeared above his head. Without any visible arms or legs, its one outstanding characteristic was a set of jagged ten-inch teeth. "Now that is one ugly dude."

"No kidding," Peter called back. The apparition above him darted through the ceiling several times, leaving behind an ectoplasmic shower. "Yuck," Venkman moaned as a large glob of purple slime landed on his head and dripped down his neck.

"Yuck is right," Winston agreed, trying to wipe the slime from his own face.

"Egon, you got a proton pack in here, too?" Peter asked, "maybe behind the shower curtain?"

"Hardly, Peter."

"Look out, Pete!" Winston suddenly shouted.

Their close quarters prevented his escape as the ghost dived directly at him, and Peter was totally and thoroughly slimed from head to toe. "Why is it always me?" he complained loudly.

Ray craned his neck, scanning the area. "Where did it go?"

"Okay, everybody out," Peter ordered, realizing a tactical retreat was in order, as four men in a bathroom presented an all too-clear target for the attacking ghost.

"Pete's right. Let's get out of the bathroom before that thing nails all of us," Winston concurred. He dodged to one side as the entity suddenly reappeared and headed in his direction. "I'll get the pack from the bedroom," he offered.

"It's not there," Ray said, catching Winston's sleeve as the black man started for the bedroom. "It's in the lab."

Winston nodded and changed directions, heading instead for Egon's lab.

"Doctor V!"

Peter tore his gaze away from the threatening apparition, surprised to see Janine headed toward them, proton pack over her shoulder, thrower in her hand.

"I heard the meter from downstairs. Where is...." Her voice trailed off and her eyes widened as she got her first glimpse of Egon in all of his towel-wrapped glory. Her concerned expression abruptly transformed to one of delight. "Oh, Egon!"

"Janine, the thrower," Peter prompted, holding out his hand. When her gaze remained fixed on Egon's near-naked form, he snapped, "Give me that!" and yanked the proton pack off her shoulder and the thrower out of her grasp.

As Ray came forward to lead Janine out of harm's way, Peter powered up, took aim and fired at the spectre. "Gotcha," the psychologist said in satisfaction.

The entity struggled with all its might, fighting to get away and dragging Peter past the firepole and all the way across the bedroom. "I could use some help here!" he yelled. "Winston?"

"Hold on to him, Pete. I'm coming," Winston called out.

Peter spared him a quick glance, relieved to see his fellow-Ghostbuster was carrying a pack over his shoulder and a trap in his hand. "Trap out!"

Winston nodded. Moving closer, but staying well away from the proton stream that sizzled through the air, he flung a trap to the floor beneath the writhing ghost. A second later, his foot stomped on the pedal and the apparition was pulled inside.

"Well, that was fun," Peter commented to no one in particular, running his fingers through his slime-covered hair with a grimace of distaste. He set the pack down on the floor next to Egon's bed.

"Good job, m'man," Winston said. He reached out to take possession of the still-smoking trap. "Here, I'll take care of this."

"Egon? Is there anything else I can do?" Despite Ray's firm grip on her arm, Janine took a step toward the bathroom, her expression hopeful.

Still maintaining a firm grip on the towel around his waist, Egon took one look at Janine, then fled back into the bathroom and closed the door firmly.

Janine's slight emphasis on 'anything' had brought a smile to Peter's lips, and his grin widened at Egon's response. "Thanks, Janine, but we'll take it from here," he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and turning her toward the stairs.

Obviously in a daze, the secretary paused at the top of the staircase. With one hand on the rail, Janine took one last glance behind her, a dreamy smile on her face and a sigh on her lips. "Oh, Egon," she repeated again as she vanished from view.

Seconds after her disappearance, Egon stepped out from the bathroom, fully clothed, wet hair styled in its customary fashion, glasses slightly fogged, cheeks flushed from more than just the recent shower.

"Hey, Egon?" Peter called, a mischievous expression on his face.

"Yes, Peter?" Egon responded in his typically dry tone, peering over the top of his red-rimmed glasses with a suspicious look.

"The night is still young. Why don't you ask Janine out? I'm sure she'll say yes, now that she's seen some of your, uh..." Peter waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "...finer qualities."

"I have work to do in my lab," Egon replied stiffly.

"I bet you do," Peter retorted with a wide grin, knowing the physicist would make himself scarce, at least around Janine, well into the unforeseeable future.

"I'm gonna head downstairs to deposit this thing in the containment unit, then finish washing and waxing Ecto," Winston announced, pack still slung over his shoulder.

"And I have to... Yikes!" Peter said as he checked his watch. "I'd better get moving or I'll be late for my date."

"I'd change first," Winston suggested with a chuckle, eying Peter's clothes.

"No joke," Peter retorted, glancing down at his clothes in turn. "I don't think Nancy Pierson would appreciate this look."

"Nancy Pierson, the anchorwoman on Channel Three?" Ray asked.

"The one and same," Peter crowed. He enjoyed a moment of self-exaltation before looking at Egon. "Are you positive you don't want to double-date?"

Egon sighed in exasperation. "Yes, Peter, I am positive."

Peter threw his hands up in defeat. "Okay, okay, go hide... I mean, play in the lab. Your loss."

"I'll help you in the lab, if you want, Egon," Ray offered, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth at Peter's words.

Egon nodded. "Very well." Without another look at the smirking psychologist, he walked away, Ray in tow behind him, his PKE meter clutched tightly to his chest.

Still smiling as he found himself alone, Peter grabbed a pair of clean shorts from his dresser and headed for the bathroom. With a disgusted sigh, he wiped up the remaining blobs of ectoplasm from the floor with Egon's discarded towel before pulling his dirty t-shirt over his head and dropping it into the hamper.

Hand extended to turn on the shower, he paused as a thought struck him. After a moment of deliberation, he shrugged sheepishly and headed back out of the room, muttering, "You never can be too careful."

A few minutes later, Peter was in the shower, singing loudly off-key and soaping down his hair. Within reach, a PKE meter sat propped up on the bathroom counter and a proton pack lay positioned across the closed toilet seat.

~end~

May 2002

Author's notes: This story is dedicated to Sheila, who inspired it with a line from her 'Legends' RGB/TS crossover story. The line: Egon had insisted they bring their proton packs and throwers just to be safe, and he never went anywhere, except possibly the shower, without a PKE meter so he could detect ghostly presences and classify them without delay. Thanks, Sheila!

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