Dana lowered her menu to look at Peter. “Is that a hint that I should order something inexpensive?”
“No, it’s a hint to order something I like so I can eat half of it,” Peter said, flashing Dana a smirk.
“Why didn’t I ever notice how sweet you are?” Dana asked, light irony permeating her tone.
Peter didn’t hesitate. “Love is blind.”
The maitre d’ approached Peter and Dana’s table, and Peter got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Come on, guys. Not tonight. I’m out with Dana. Please?
It wasn’t that Peter didn’t like being gainfully employed; he liked it very much. What he didn’t like was being constantly on call. Things were just beginning to go right between him and Dana, but ghostbusting always managed to intrude with the hackneyed familiarity of a sitcom plot.
“You are Peter Venkman, sir?” the maitre d’ asked.
“Tell him I just left,” Peter said.
“I did that already, sir. He told me I was a bad liar,” the maitre d’ said, looking ill at ease.
Peter sighed, looking at Dana. She looked frustrated, but not surprised.
“I’ll just talk to them,” Peter told her. “That’s all. Five minutes. Then I’ll come back to the table and have dinner with you like a normal human being.”
A faint smile passed across Dana’s face. “If you were a normal human being, Peter, you wouldn’t be you.”
Peter looked at the maitre d’. “She really likes me.”
The maitre d’ nodded. “Yes, sir.” He gestured to the phone. “This way.”
Peter crossed to the phone and picked up the waiting receiver. “What?”
“We’ve got trouble,” Ray’s voice said.
“What kind?” Peter asked.
“Buddy Jenkins,” Ray said.
“He’s back already?” Great. Just great. It could’ve been something benign, and would’ve been on any other night, but no. Tonight Peter was out with Dana, so it had to be Buddy Jenkins.
“It looks bad,” Ray said. “He’s already commandeered a Ford Taurus.”
“Isn’t this something the three of you can handle? I’m pretty busy here…”
“Last time it took all four of us to make sure nobody got hurt. If you’re not here…” Ray paused to let Peter fill in the blanks.
Peter hated himself for what he was about to do, but that didn’t change the fact that he was about to do it. “I’ll be at headquarters in five minutes.”
“See you then,” Ray said, sounding chipper.
“I hate you,” Peter said.
“Okay,” Ray said, still cheery. “Bye.”
Peter looked at the receiver for a moment and then hung up.
When he sat down, Dana spoke. “So you’re on call?”
“I told Ray I hate him,” Peter offered as a peace gesture.
Dana wasn’t distracted that easily. “You hate him, but you’re on call?”
Peter made a face as he nodded. “But I’ll have you know I really hate him.”
“It’s okay,” Dana said. “I didn’t think we’d get past appetizers.”
“Sorry,” Peter said.
Dana stood, pushing her chair in. “So where are we going?”
“I thought I’d drop you off before I head over to HQ,” Peter said.
“Let me ask again. Where are we going?” Dana asked.
Peter shook his head. “I appreciate your feelings of solidarity or insanity or whatever this is, but Buddy Jenkins isn’t the kind of spirit you mess around with on a first date.”
“You can tell me all about him in the car,” Dana said.
“What about Oscar?” Peter asked.
“Janine’s watching him. She’s a responsible adult,” Dana said. “Come on. Let’s go.”
As he picked up his coat, Peter thought this was either going to be a fascinating night or an intolerable one.
***“So who is Buddy Jenkins, anyway?” Dana asked.
“Deceased stock car driver,” Peter said, pulling out of his parking space. “Death didn’t do anything for his psychological health, and every six months, the guy gets up enough energy to go bowling for pedestrians. Six-foot-two, eyes of blue…what else do you wanna know?”
“Why don’t you just trap him and get it over with?” Dana asked.
Peter shook his head. “He’s one of a kind. He actually gains energy by absorbing material things. You could trap him, but…”
“I see,” Dana said. “So you can only get rid of him temporarily?”
“So far. Egon’s been working on a way to boost the energy of our proton packs so that we can disrupt stuff. I don't know how it works,” Peter said.
“Does it work?” Dana asked.
“So far, it works great,” Peter said. “We’ll see if it still works when we use it.”
***Winston was waiting in front of headquarters, sitting on the hood of the Ectomobile, when Peter pulled into the driveway. Dana was in his car.
Damn, he looks mad, Winston thought. Of course, Winston knew he’d be mad too if he were constantly interrupted mid-date with Ghostbuster business. Winston counted himself somewhat lucky that he didn’t have a girlfriend; it would take a seriously well-adjusted woman to deal with the late long hours they worked. Someday I’ll meet that woman. Just not today.
“What’s happening, Winston?” Peter asked as he got out of the car.
“You know as well as I do,” Winston said.
“Rhetorical question,” Peter said.
Winston nodded. “Uh-huh. How come you brought Dana?”
“Well, I was all for having a dinner at a nice restaurant, but Dana insisted we go out and combat specters. I said, ‘Dana, are you sure?’ and she said, ‘Of course, Peter. I couldn’t think of a better evening date!’” With that, Peter stomped by Winston and into HQ.
Yup, Winston thought. He’s good and pissed off.
***“Keep the dial turned to four or five,” Egon informed Ray. “It disrupts them just long enough to drain away energy.”
Ray nodded as he examined his modified proton pack. “This is amazing, Egon.” He looked at Egon. “What happens if you turn it up above that?”
“Permanent disruption,” Egon said.
Ray frowned. “Isn’t that what we’re going for?”
“Only in extreme situations, Ray,” Egon said, shaking his head. “Damage caused beyond a four or five would permanently disrupt the ectoplasmic matrix without cessation of ghostly function.”
“Causing?”
“Extreme pain and permanent disfigurement. Perhaps plasmaneural damage as well,” Egon said. “Inhumane cruelty, since we haven’t come up with a way to actually put ghosts out of commission.”
Ray nodded. “We could still trap them?”
“If necessary,” Egon said, “but I wouldn’t recommend—”
Peter stomped into the room. “Okay. You’ve ruined any chance at fun I might’ve had. Let’s go.”
“Peter,” Egon said, getting to his feet. He was excited about showing Peter the new proton packs; Egon always got a charge out of being useful to his fellow Ghostbusters in a scientific capacity. Knowledge was useless unless it was used towards some greater practical end, and Egon liked to think that was his contribution to ghostbusting.
Peter closed his eyes, clamping his jaw for a minute in a misguided attempt to lower the tension in his body. Egon considered suggesting deep breaths, but Peter seemed angrier than Egon had seen him in some time.
Peter let out a long breath and opened his eyes. “What is it, Egon?”
Egon looked at Peter for a moment, and then decided to go ahead with his lecture. “I’ve made some changes to the packs; there’s a dial controlling energy output.”
Peter’s anger seemed to dissipate as he looked at the dial. “Nice work, Spengs.”
“Thank you,” Egon said. “Don’t use it above four or five. It’s not humane.”
Peter raised his eyebrows. “Neither are the ghosts.”
“Yes, I know, but how would you like to walk through eternity with a burning, painful hole in your chest?” Egon asked.
Peter paused, narrowing his eyes as if he were considering it.
“Come on, guys,” Ray said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get going.”
Peter’s jaw tightened visibly. “I’ll get changed and meet you by the car.”
Egon held up one finger to Ray and followed Peter out of the room. “For what it’s worth, Peter, we flipped coins to decide who would talk to you on the phone, and Ray lost.”
“I know,” Peter said. “And I know it’s important, what we do. I just…” He sighed, pulling a small box from his pocket. “This was for tonight.”
Egon’s eyes widened as he looked at the box. “You bought her a velvet-covered personal ghost trap?”
Peter rolled his eyes. “It’s a ring, you nutball.”
Egon nodded slowly. Personally, he thought his idea was better, particularly as a gift for a Ghostbuster’s girlfriend. Then again, Peter hadn’t asked for an opinion. “Have you proposed?”
“No, because Mister Sunshine in there phoned me at the restaurant,” Peter said. “So I’m gonna get changed so we can do this thing and maybe, when we’re finished, I’ll still have time to give her this before she falls asleep in the car.”
Egon had to ask the logical question. “How do you know she’ll take it?”
Peter stared at Egon for a minute, and then he smirked. “Stop distracting me.”
“Okay,” Egon said. “See you out front.”
Peter nodded. “Yeah.”
At least he was smirking again, Egon thought. Peter without a smirk was a scary thought indeed.
***Ray got into the driver’s seat and heard an elegant cough behind him. He turned around. “Dana? What are you doing here?”
“Spending quality time with Peter,” Dana said.
Ray grimaced. He knew Dana liked Peter and all, but this was a bad time to have an extra body along. “Dana, this particular ghost is very dangerous. What we’re doing is very dangerous, and…”
“I know that, Ray. Believe me, nobody’s in a better position to know that, but being possessed by Zuul and almost becoming a demon’s mother heightened my tolerance for danger,” Dana said.
Ray turned so he could see Dana’s face. “You’re sure?”
“You know, you could look at me as help instead of ‘Pete’s girlfriend along for the ride,’” Dana said.
“If you’re going to help us, you’ll need training.”
“If you’re going to interrupt all my dinners with Peter, I’ll get training,” Dana said. She didn’t sound angry, just matter-of-fact.
Ray braved a smile. It wouldn’t be a bad idea, adding Dana to the team. He’d have to talk to the other guys about it, but he doubted they’d object. She had probably earned honorary membership through her ordeals already. “I’d be happy to show you whatever you want to know.”
Dana nodded, the hint of a smile in her eyes. “Thanks. I’d like that.”
Peter and Egon climbed into the back seat with Dana and Winston took the front seat next to Ray.
“We ready to go, guys?” Ray asked.
“You’re sure about this?” Peter muttered to Dana.
“I’m sure,” Dana said.
“Yeah, we’re ready,” Peter said.
“Okay. Let’s go,” Ray said, pulling the Ectomobile out onto the street.
***“How do we know where he is?” Dana asked Peter.
“He always haunts the same stretch of road,” Peter said, taking Dana’s hand in what he hoped was an inconspicuous manner. “He never gets too far—we don’t let him.”
Dana nodded. “I see.”
“You’ve got nothing to worry about, Dana,” Winston said. “As long as you don’t hang around on the shoulder, it’ll be no problem.”
Peter thought Winston was oversimplifying the problem just a tad, but he didn’t want Dana to be nervous.
Ray pulled over the car and parked it. “Okay. Everybody out.”
Peter crawled out of the car behind Dana.
“How dangerous is this guy?” Dana whispered.
“The year before we went into business, he killed a lot of pedestrians,” Peter whispered back. “He was Public Enemy Number One. Now he’s sort of gone down to Annoying As All Hell And Dangerous If Not Stopped.”
“Good to know,” Dana said.
She seemed calm. That was good. Peter hoped it would last.
Egon took out his PKE meter and scanned the area. “Uh-oh. This doesn’t look good.”
“What? Why?” Peter said, stepping closer to read the PKE meter over Egon’s shoulder. If there was one thing Peter didn’t like to see, it was Egon with bad news. If there were two things Peter didn’t like to see, they were Egon with bad news and an elderly woman in a thong…but never mind.
“He’s coming this way, but he’s coming…” Egon stopped, evidently to calculate something in his head. “…way too fast. Given the speed Buddy’s traveling, and the six-second delay involved in the proton packs, the time differential becomes too great to make up by any human means.”
“Thank you, Mr. Peabody. Now can we go in the Way Back Machine?” Peter said.
Dana shook her head. “Time differential. What does that mean?”
“By the time we get the packs going, he’ll be past here and we’ll blow out the windows of the drugstore,” Ray said. "And he'll probably kill us before he passes."
Peter heard the sound of a distant motor. “Guys, come on. Think.”
“We have to stop him fast,” Ray said hesitantly.
Buddy’s car crested the top of a nearby hill.
“Oh, shit,” Peter said.
“I second that shit,” Winston said. “Egon. Ray. What’re we doing?”
Egon shook his head. “I can’t displace the time differential…”
“If we stand in the middle of the road, maybe we can—” Ray began.
Winston interrupted. “That’s no good. You heard what Egon said; by the time we saw the car coming, we couldn’t activate the packs soon enough to save ourselves.”
"We can't save ourselves anyway. Standing in the road won't help," Peter said.
“I can stop him,” Dana said.
Peter looked at her. “What?”
“I can stop him, Peter,” Dana repeated.
Buddy’s car leapt over the top of the hill.
“You can’t,” Peter began, but Dana’s hand tightened on his arm.
“Take care of Oscar,” she said.
For the first time in a long time, Peter felt genuinely afraid. “Wait. What are you talking about?”
Buddy’s car came speeding down the road. Peter looked at Egon, who shook his head. There was no way they’d be able to stop Buddy now.
Then Dana threw herself in front of his car.
Peter knew he cried out, but wasn’t sure exactly what he cried out. All he knew was that he had his proton pack wand in his hand and that the ghost who had thudded to a halt in front of him had just killed Dana.
That was all he needed to know. He turned the dial on his pack up and began blasting.
Someone touched Peter’s shoulder, and Peter was so startled that he dropped his wand. The pack automatically shut off, and Peter turned around to see who had touched him.
It was Egon. “I think you got him.”
Peter looked at the destroyed, smoking remains of the Ford Taurus. Little charred pieces of ectoplasm were scattered on the ground.
“I blew him up?” Peter asked, stunned.
“You turned it up to ten,” Egon said. “Buddy Jenkins is permanently gone.”
Winston poked his head out of an Ectomobile window. “I just called an ambulance, man.”
Peter nodded, his attention turning to the prone woman in the road. He shed his pack, taking a few trembling steps towards Dana. She was already dead, though, and Peter didn’t want to see how badly she’d been hurt.
He managed to turn away from her before he threw up. Ray was instantly at his side, rubbing his back without a word.
“I’m sorry, Peter,” Egon said, looking helpless and dorky in his own inimitable way.
Peter raised his head. He felt blank, like there was nothing inside him. Maybe it would never go away; maybe he would always feel like this. The thought didn’t frighten him, though. He didn’t seem to care one way or another.
The ambulance rolled to a stop behind them. Peter got slowly to his feet.
“This should never have happened,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else.
Silence. Sirens. Night.
***Janine was reading a magazine on Dana’s couch when the door opened. Janine opened her mouth to ask Dana how the date had gone, but instead of Dana, Dr. Venkman stood in the doorway.
“Dr. Venkman,” Janine said. “What are you doing here?”
Venkman shut the door as if he hadn’t heard her.
Janine stood. “Are you okay?”
Venkman turned to face her, shaking his head. “No.”
Janine bit her lip. Should she ask him what was wrong? Surely he’d tell her if he wanted her to know. But why was he at Dana’s apartment?
“She died tonight,” Venkman said.
Janine gasped. “Oh my God.”
Venkman inclined his head towards the baby’s room. “Is he in there?”
Janine nodded. “Sleeping.” She stepped forward to give him a hug.
Venkman raised a hand to stop her. “Not right now. Okay?”
Janine didn’t understand, but there were a lot of things about her job she didn’t understand. She nodded. “Okay.”
“I just can’t handle anyone being nice to me tonight,” Venkman said.
“Okay. I’ll go.”
Venkman sank into a chair. “Goodbye, Janine.”
Janine hesitated. “You call me if you need anything, all right?”
Venkman barely nodded.
On her way home, Janine wondered what poor Dr. Venkman would do all night in that empty apartment.
***Peter had a plan.
Months ago, when he and Dana had been talking about moving in together, Peter had brought all his latest parapsychology journals over to Dana’s apartment, partially because he hoped it would ease the process and partially because it would give him an excuse to see Dana more often. Now, he had an idea. If it worked, everything would be fine. If it didn’t…but Peter couldn’t face the possibility that it might not work. There was something inside him that was very close to breaking, and it would break if he admitted failure.
Here it is. Peter found the page he was looking for. Yes…yes…here it was, in black and white. It was the only sensible course of action to take.
He would summon the Negotiator.
***Peter crossed the room, making sure the temperature and humidity were at the Negotiator’s preferred settings. This had to be seamless; otherwise, it wouldn’t work.
He flipped to the earmarked page of the journal and began to read the words of the summoning spell. They were difficult to read at first, and slow, but then they started coming faster and faster, until Peter felt as if the words were saying him instead of the other way around.
The window crashed open and there, floating in the air before Peter, was the Negotiator.
Peter stared at the spirit, took a deep breath, and began to negotiate.
***Oscar’s crying. Dana opened her eyes. Oh my God. Where am I? I thought I jumped in front of a car. Was that a dream? She sat up. This was definitely her apartment, and Oscar was crying.
Dana stood slowly, a little bit disoriented and not sure what had happened. If she’d dreamed all of yesterday…well, never mind. It was too confusing, and Oscar needed her right now.
She was by his crib in a flash, picking him up and soothing him softly. That’s when she realized the window in the other room had been open.
Holding Oscar protectively, she walked back into the living room. “Hello?” She cleared her throat. “Hello? Peter?” No answer. Maybe there was nobody there, and the window had just…but how had the window…?
To be safe, Dana decided to check the other rooms, and she poked her head into the bathroom. “Hello? Is…”
She fell silent in surprise. Peter was standing in the bathroom, mouth agape and eyes wide.
And he was holding Oscar.
Dana looked down at the baby in her arms and realized she was wearing Peter’s clothes. The same clothes, in fact, the Peter in the bathroom was wearing. She jerked her head up to look in the bathroom again.
That’s the mirror.
Dana’s reflection, which looked exactly like Peter, looked back at her in shock.
“Oh my God,” Dana said.
***Egon had decided to spend the night studying myrmecophagae tridactylae in an effort to distract himself from the disastrous evening.
It wasn’t his fault; Egon knew that logically. Nor was it Winston’s, Ray’s, or Peter’s fault. Dana alone had decided what actions to take, and she was the only one responsible for said actions. But knowing that didn’t make Egon feel any better about it.
Egon couldn’t shake the mental image of how beaten Peter had looked. There’d been no life in his eyes, no laughter. They’d had a ten-minute ride back to HQ, and Peter hadn’t said one word to any of them.
And the proposal. Egon was the only one who knew about that, and it bothered him. Peter had been ready to propose, and... Egon winced at the thought.
The doorbell rang, and Egon launched himself away from his myrmecophagae tridactylae. There was only one person who could be at that door, and Egon was sure he knew who it was. He opened the door, and was right. It was Peter.
“May I come in?” Peter asked.
Egon wondered why on earth Peter would start asking permission now. “Sure.”
Peter came in but immediately turned to face Egon. “I need to talk to you. I need your help.”
“I’ll do anything I can,” Egon said. “What is it?”
“I thought you might be able to tell me what’s going on,” Peter said.
Egon blinked. “What’s going on?”
Peter looked nervous. “You’ll think I’m crazy.”
“I already do, so go ahead,” Egon said.
“Well…” Peter took a deep breath. “What happened to me tonight, Egon? I remember the thing with the car, but the next thing I knew, I was in my apartment with Oscar.”
Egon frowned. “Excuse me?”
“The window was open, so I checked the apartment, and when I saw myself in the mirror, I—” Peter cut himself off. “I’m sorry. Would you mind telling me something, Dr. Spengler?”
Dr. Spengler? Egon was, unusually, lost. “What do you want me to tell you?”
“I was there with the four of you tonight. That wasn’t a dream, was it?” Peter asked.
“No,” Egon said. Why was Peter talking so softly? This wasn’t his usual tone of voice.
“And I jumped in front of the car,” Peter said.
“You jumped…” Suddenly, Egon got it. “Dana?”
Peter nodded tightly, looking worried. “What happened…Egon, what happened after I did that?”
Egon’s mind was full of possibilities. Peter could’ve cracked and become convinced he was Dana, sure, but Egon didn’t think that was what had happened. This might actually be Dana in the body of his friend—which begged the question, how?
“Buddy Jenkins hit you with his car,” Egon said.
Peter—Dana—shuddered. “I don’t remember that.”
“That’s probably a good thing,” Egon said.
“What then?” Dana asked.
Egon figured he’d better just tell her. “Well, you…you died.”
Dana went pale. “I died?”
Egon nodded. “Right there. Winston called an ambulance, but…”
Dana ducked her head in an entirely un-Venkmanlike motion. “What about Peter?”
“He was…” Egon swallowed hard. “He was heartbroken.”
Dana nodded, looking tired and sad. Then something occurred to her. “Egon, if I’m here…where’s Peter?”
Egon thought for a moment. “It’s too soon to know. He may be a ghost…he may be trapped in some strange netherworld…or…”
“Or?”
Egon made a face. “He might just be dead.”
“That’s impossible. I’m here,” Dana said, poking herself in the chest. Then she looked at her chest for a minute. “This is so weird.”
“For me too,” Egon said.
Dana looked at Egon. “You seemed to accept it pretty fast.”
“I’ve accepted lots of things. This wasn’t much of a stretch for me,” Egon said with a slight smile.
Dana smiled too. Egon had trouble reminding himself it was Dana in there—he still expected it to be Peter. It’s Dana. It’s a woman. No, wait—that’s Dana, and she’s a woman.
“Do you want me to call the guys for an emergency meeting?” Egon asked.
Dana shook her head. “No thanks, Egon. I still don’t know what I’m going to do.”
“What do you mean, what you’re going to do?” Egon asked.
Dana met his eyes. “If you guys were anybody else, I’d have to pretend I was Peter and everything was normal.”
Egon shook his head. “Dana…no. Don’t even consider that. I’m glad you told me, and I’m sure the other guys’ll be glad and ready to help.”
“I just feel so crazy.”
Egon bent down, taking Dana gently by the shoulders. “Don’t. You’re not crazy, and nobody thinks you are.” He released her. “We’ll figure things out, okay?”
“Okay,” Dana said. She stood. “I’ve gotta get back—Janine’s watching Oscar, and…” She blinked. “I need to buy some more formula.”
“Do it tomorrow,” Egon said. “Get a good night’s sleep.”
“Good night, Egon,” Dana said, heading for the door.
“Good night,” Egon said. “Come by headquarters tomorrow and we’ll tell the other guys what happened.”
Dana nodded and left.
Egon knew his myrmecophagae would have to wait. Tonight, he was more interested in what had happened to Dana and Peter.
***Winston checked his watch. “So what’s this magic moment we’re waiting for, Egon?”
Egon was pacing with excitement. “Believe me, when I tell you, it will change the way you perceive the spirit world.”
“Great,” Winston said. “Then we can all go home.”
“Where’s Peter, anyway? He should see this,” Ray said, evidently without thinking. Then he winced. “Oh. Sorry, guys.”
Winston clapped Ray on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Ray. It’s not your fault.”
“Then why do I feel like it is?” Ray asked.
“We all do,” Winston said.
Peter appeared at the door and Egon sprang to life. “There! There it is!”
Winston looked at Egon dubiously. “That’s Peter.”
Egon raised one finger. “No, it isn’t.” He turned to Peter. “Tell them who you are.”
“Hi, guys,” Peter said in an uncertain tone. “It’s me, Dana.”
Winston stared at Egon. How could he encourage something like this? Peter was obviously sick and in need of counseling.
Egon took out one of his scanners. “Here. Ray. Scan him.”
Ray did so, and his eyes widened. “According to these readings…Winston, come have a look.”
Winston looked over Ray’s shoulders, and sure enough, the readings were identical to readings that had been taken from Dana weeks earlier when Egon had tested the new equipment. Winston looked at Peter again. Could Dana really be in there?
“What happened?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know,” Dana said. “I woke up like this. I was hoping you could help me find out what happened to Peter.”
Ray nodded, turning to Egon. “Should we check her apartment first?”
“I was going to suggest that,” Egon said, looking triumphant. “Let’s go.”
Everybody seems to be saying that a lot lately, Winston thought.
***Ray frowned as he scanned the apartment with the PKE meter. “According to this, there was a huge amount of PKE energy expended in this room…sometime last night.”
“That would coincide with Dana’s appearance,” Egon said.
Dana picked up a book from the floor, flipping through the pages.
“Anything interesting in there?” Ray asked her.
Dana wet her lips nervously. “I’m not…what’s the Negotiator?”
“Oh, no!” Egon said, moving away from the bathroom. “Is that the page he had it on?”
“The corner’s folded down,” Winston said, taking the book.
“At the risk of sounding like an idiot, what’s the Negotiator?” Dana asked.
“It’s a spirit that’s haunted New York since the late eighteen hundreds,” Egon said. “It’s fairly uncomplicated to summon the Negotiator, but once you do, you have to make a bargain.”
“A bargain for what?” Dana asked, looking as if she wasn’t sure she wanted the answer.
“It deals in spiritual exchanges at a price,” Ray said, resting a hand on her shoulder. Dana looked at him, and Ray moved his hand quickly. For a moment, he’d forgotten she was in Peter’s body. Ray didn’t mind touching Dana, but it felt weird to touch Peter’s girlfriend when Peter was…looking at him. Sort of. This was all much too complicated to be comfortable.
“You mean Peter?” Dana said, her voice trembling slightly.
Winston nodded. “He negotiated his life in exchange for yours.”
Dana’s face crumpled. “Oh…damn it!” Then she regained her composure. “So how do we get him back?”
“Getting him back is a dicey proposition,” Egon said hesitantly. “We don’t have anything to negotiate with, because we want to go in and come back without losing anybody.”
“Go in?” Dana asked.
“If Peter’s still out there, it’s gonna be on the spiritual plane,” Ray said. “We have to figure out a way to get there and back.”
Winston snapped his fingers. “Guys, we’ve been thinking about this the wrong way.”
“What do you mean?” Ray asked, glad for the opportunity to be mistaken.
“We keep saying we don’t have anything to negotiate with,” Winston said. “But what is it the Negotiator collects?”
“Lives,” Ray said.
“Not lives, Ray. What specifically does the Negotiator collect?” Winston asked.
“Ghosts,” Dana said.
Ray turned to look at Dana, a slow feeling of wonderment dawning on him. “Ghosts! Of course!”
“And we’ve got a mint collection,” Egon said, almost beaming.
“Exactly,” Winston said. “So, if we hit on the right few, or the right combination, it should be easy to get Peter back.”
“But where will Dana go?” Ray asked.
“I don’t mind if that’s one of the conditions of Peter’s release,” Dana said quickly.
Winston rolled his eyes. “You two make me sick. First one gives up his life so the other one can live, and now you’re ready to reverse the process.
"That doesn’t solve anything, Dana,” Egon said.
“We’ll make it one of the conditions,” Ray said firmly. He wasn’t about to give up on a plan this good. “The Negotiator has to bring Dana back to life and repair all her bodily damage.”
Winston nodded. “That’s gonna be one hell of a ransom.”
“It doesn’t matter,” Egon said. “It’s Peter and Dana, and we need them both.”
***Thirty minutes later, they were reassembled at Dana’s apartment, sixteen ghost traps full of bargaining points.
“I’ll summon it,” Ray said, taking the book and beginning to read.
A breeze began to blow in through the window, and the breeze strengthened to a wind. Ray had finished speaking the summons before long, and with a somewhat melodramatic flash of lightning, the Negotiator entered the room.
Ray had never seen a spirit like this before. He looked like a man in a bathrobe.
“State your terms,” the Negotiator said.
Winston looked skeptical. “You’re the Negotiator?”
The Negotiator bristled. “I beg your pardon?”
“No offense, but I thought you’d be more impressive-looking,” Winston said.
“Didn’t you see the lightning?” the Negotiator asked.
“Never mind that,” Dana interrupted, stepping forward. “Do you have the spirit of Peter Venkman in your care?”
The Negotiator gestured slightly, and there was Peter, transparent and floating before them.
“Uh…how am I standing over there?” Peter’s spirit asked, pointing to Dana.
“It’s me, Peter,” Dana said softly.
Peter raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Dana?”
Dana nodded.
Peter shook his head. “I’ve heard of narcissism, but this is ridiculous.” He smiled at her. “How are you?”
Dana nodded again, evidently trying to remain calm. “I’m fine, Peter. If you’re joking, you must be all right…”
“You always could see right through me,” Peter said.
Egon and Ray stifled laughs by clearing their throats and thinking of something serious. Ray didn’t know what Egon was thinking about, but Ray was thinking about buying car insurance.
“Enough of that,” the Negotiator said. “State your terms.”
Egon stepped forward. “We want Peter returned to his body and Dana returned to hers. We also want you to repair the damage done to Dana’s body.”
The Negotiator considered it. “A pricey offer.”
“We’re willing to pay in the requested currency,” Ray said, gesturing to the ghost traps.
The Negotiator looked intrigued. “How many?”
Negotiation was Egon’s territory. Everybody turned to watch Egon, including Peter, who was holding his breath…well, he would be if he were breathing.
“Five,” Egon said.
“Twenty,” the Negotiator said.
“Four,” Egon said.
“Twenty-five,” the Negotiator said.
“Three,” Egon said.
The Negotiator was evidently not used to someone remaining calm and clear-headed as his offers rose. Ray imagined that most people panicked and brought their offers higher, which encouraged the Negotiator to increase his offers still further.
“Nineteen,” the Negotiator said.
Egon raised one eyebrow. “One.”
The Negotiator looked as if he were ready to perspire. “Thirteen. Take it or leave it.”
Egon pretended to consider it. Then he nodded. “I’ll take it.”
The Negotiator rose higher in the air. “The deal has been made.” He held out his hands, and glowing beams of light from thirteen of the ghost traps flew into his hands. Then there was a blinding flash of light, and Ray lost consciousness.
***Peter opened his eyes to find all the Ghostbusters lying around Dana’s apartment. He sat up, and winced at the pain in his back. He’d really have to see a chiropractor. Wait a minute. Pain? Back? He raised his hand and realized, with some delight, that he couldn’t see through it. He was alive again.
He got to his feet, scanning the room anxiously. Where was she? Was she here? In the corner—yes, that was—
“Dana,” Peter murmured, dropping to his knees at her side.
Dana opened her eyes. “Peter?” Her hands went to her breasts to make sure.
“Yeah, you’ve got ‘em now,” Peter said. He leaned down and kissed her on the neck. “I’ve been waiting to do this.”
Dana sat up and smacked Peter on the shoulder with a violence Peter hadn’t expected.
“Don’t ever do that to me again,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” he asked. Then he caught hold of her hand and helped her to her feet as the other guys began to stir. “Come on.”
Egon opened his eyes. “Peter? Dana? Are you all right?”
“We’re fine,” Peter said, never stopping his movement towards the door. “Tell the others when they wake up.”
“Where are you going?” Egon asked.
“Somewhere without any phones,” Peter said. “I’ve got some unfinished business with Dana.”
“Okay,” Egon said, and Peter could hear the smile in his voice.
They were in the elevator when Dana asked, “Exactly what unfinished business do you have with me, Peter?”
Peter thought of the ring in his jacket at home, and smiled. “You’ll see.”
Despite a slight delay, everything was finally going as planned.
THE END
