There's a story behind this ...

So, for some reason I have never figured out, I went on a Ghostbusters kick starting around Thanksgiving. I watched the first movie, the second movie ... and the entire animated series (much to my husband's annoyance). One of thee episodes, "Robo-Buster," showed a guy taking advantage of Janine to gain access to their equipment. While the theft blew up in his face and he was left humiliated, I felt that what he did to Janine was never really addressed. Thus we have a story ...

I would like to dedicate this story to my good friend, Angela, who was my sounding board through the process of this story.

A big thanks to my beta, dlldarkwolf, for being willing to help with a fandom is is not well versed in.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own the rights to this show, my owb firehouse, or a proton-pack.

Enjoy ...

Egon sat in a tiny café, stirring cold coffee, and contemplating what he was doing there in the first place. More disturbingly, what he intended to do before he returned home. Across the street were the offices of Grossjuck Industries – or at least they were for the moment. He had not been sorry to see a drop in the company's stocks after the Robo-Buster fiasco, but that was not the reason for his visit to this part of town.

This was personal.

It was bad enough that Paul Smart had stolen their equipment, copied their designs, and nearly put them out of business. All that aside, he had crossed a line when he used Janine. As much as it hurt to see her being so flirtatious with another man, Egon could have accepted it if it had made her happy.

But it didn't.

He had seen her, day in and day out, becoming more and more depressed as time went by without a word from the CEO. That man had broken her heart and for that he had to pay. The only question was, how? Egon wasn't exactly a fighter, but he just couldn't let this guy get away with what he did. Perhaps he could change the density of his mattress and turn it to the consistency of quick sand, or he could release genetically altered bedbugs that would cause him to contract a flesh-eating virus, or –

"Can I get you anything, sir?"

Startled out of his dark thoughts, Egon waved off the waitress and tried to get hold of himself. Paul Smart had to pay, but he would not reduce himself to the level of a murderer. Then again, the virus didn't have to be fatal … No! He was better than that. Still, he had to do something, or he would go crazy. Even now, Janine walked around as if the weight of the world was crushing her. She blamed herself for what happened, and nothing they could say or do could change that.

Or maybe there was.

Egon abandoned his coffee and headed across the street, just as a lone figure exited the building. There was no limo waiting this time – as the company was near-broke – and the man raised his hand to hail a cab. Whatever Egon was going to do, it was now or never.

"Mr. Smart," he called, his mind racing to formulate a plan. "I'd like a word with you."

"Haven't you guys done enough?" the soon-to-be ex-CEO growled.

Deciding not to mention how everything that transpired was untimely his own fault, Egon squared his shoulders and spoke in a firm tone. The man had paid financially for what he had done to them, now he had to pay personally for what he did to Janine.

"I'm not here to do anything to you, I just want you to go on record that what happened was your fault and no one else was to blame."

He wasn't sure if that would help Janine feel less guilty, but it would be a step in the right direction. Furthermore, a public statement would also help their business and silence the rumors that had connected them to the scandal. Not that many people believed his team to be at fault, but bad publicity was never a good thing.

"Oh?" Paul Smart scoffed. "You want me to make a public statement? Is that all?"

"No," Egon replied, getting another idea. "You also have to issue a public apology to Janine for the way you treated her."

The man actually laughed at that one and a feeling of rage began to build in the scientist's chest. Did he think this was some kind of joke? Did he think he would have taken a cab all the way across town just to deliver an empty threat? Then again, what could he do against the guy that the police, press, and stock market hadn't already done?

"That's what this is all about, isn't it?" the businessman snickered. "You … you actually came down here to play the white knight!"

He laughed again while Egon tried to deduce just what part of the situation he found so funny. Was it the fact he was trying to defend the honor of his secretary? It would explain the 'white knight' analogy, but it still wasn't a laughing matter.

"I should have known you would try something, but figured you were more of the brooding in your lab type."

Now Egon was more confused than angry. What was he talking about? All four of them – six if you counted Janine and Slimer – had been very clear on their thoughts and feelings toward Paul Smart. They had all taken part in gloating over his misfortune after Robo-Buster was destroyed. Why was he expecting another, more personal, attack?

"Wow, you didn't know I knew, did you? Well, I didn't make it this far by being dumb."

"That's a debatable statement," Egon couldn't help interjecting.

"I saw the way you looked at her," the man continued, his tone still cocky. "That day I dropped her off, you might as well have been wearing a neon sign. I've seen it before, any time I charm a girl in another man's territory."

Now Egon was more stunned than anything else. Were his feelings for Janine really that transparent? He barely admitted them to himself, but this guy caught on in less than five minutes? No matter, his motivations were irrelevant. Paul Smart had hurt someone special and he had to make amends.

"There was only one thing I can't understand," the businessman remarked. "I've seen woman throw themselves at you guys … so why would you waste your time with a girl like Janine Melnitz?"

With that, the rage came back in full force. Egon focused on his breathing, reminding himself that he was a man of reason and logic while the thug he was facing had at least forty pounds on him. If it came to a fight, he did not have much chance, but when Paul Smart went on to describe all of the faults he saw in Janine, patience only went so far.

"I have to say, that romance was the hardest one I ever had to fake. Listening to her talk alone was enough to make a guy –"

*L*O*V*E*I*S*P*A*T*I*E*N*T**L*O*V*E*I*S*K*I*N*D*

Peter heard the front door open, but just turned the page in his magazine. If it was an emergency, Janine would tell him soon enough. Besides, it was the swimsuit issue. There wasn't a whole lot that could get between him and the newest release of the swimsuit issue.

"Egon!" their secretary screamed. "Are you okay? What happened?"

Without another thought, Peter tossed aside the magazine and hurried into their lobby. Swaying on his feet was a very disheveled scientist who looked like he had gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson … and a cement truck. He would have hit the floor, if Janine's panicked cry hadn't brought the entire team running. With Winston on one side and Peter on the other, they managed to help their friend up to the living room. Ray prepared some pillows on the couch and sent Janine out to find a first aid kit, Slimer following close behind her to help in any way he could. Smart move – there was no way Egon would admit to whatever stupid thing he did if she was still in earshot.

"Alright," Peter began once they were gone. "Why did you pick today to take up bear wrestling?"

"Bears tend to maul," Egon pointed out, wincing as he shifted on the couch. "Although, the way I'm feeling now, it might have been preferred."

"What did happen?" Winston demanded.

"I … I don't want to talk about it."

Peter thought about prying, but Janine chose that moment to return with the first aid kit. He allowed her to fuss over their friend, trying to get him to admit what he wouldn't share with the rest of them, while Ray unpacked the necessary supplies. It was only the suggestion from Winston that Egon would probably need something soft for dinner that had the woman out the door again. Deciding on a new tactic, Peter helped treat his friend's injuries. After all, he had seen enough hits in his time to know the difference between a fist-bruise and a wall-bruise. It soon became very clear that – whatever happened – involved something with hands.

"Whoa," Ray gasped, looking at Egon's mangled knuckles. "Did you hit something?"

"Or someone?" Peter prompted. "Did some big kid try to take your lunch money?"

He kept his tone light, but inside he was fuming. Egon was a sweet and harmless guy; no one had the right to jump him like this. When he found out who did this, they were going to pay – big time!

"Nothing like that," Egon assured them.

"Were you mugged?" Winston guessed. "How much did they get?"

"I wasn't mugged," the scientist insisted, seeming angered by the suggestion. "If you must know, I got in a fight."

"We can see that, Buddy," Peter pointed out. "We just want to know who started it, so we can go finish it."

Ray and Winston seemed to be in complete agreement, but the object of their concern just grew quieter at their show of solidarity. Did he think they wouldn't try to protect him, or did he just not want them to? In either case, he had no say. Someone had hurt him and that someone was going to pay for it.

"That won't be necessary," Egon said slowly.

"Hey," Ray said, placing a comforting hand on his bruised arm. "We just want to help."

"No, I mean … I started the fight."

Peter stared at his friend, completely stunned by what he just heard. Egon Spengler started a fight. Egon. The man had the patience of a saint of the combat skill of Gumby; why in the name of all that is science would he – HE – be starting a fight?

"Why, Egon?" Ray questioned, clearly as shocked as the rest of them.

"I went to see Paul Smart," he admitted. "He started talking about … things … I just … I lost my temper."

He didn't give any more details, but Peter had heard enough to piece together what happened. There was only one thing – make that one woman – that could bring out this level of emotion in Egon. He wasn't sure what Smart had said, but it was obvious that he had not lived up to his name. This became even more clear when Peter made a visit to Grossjuck Industries the next day. He told the secretary that he was bringing some legal papers – which he had managed to have drawn up that very morning as an excuse to come by. He had to make sure that slime-ball weasel had sufficiently paid for all he had done to his team.

And if he hadn't, he would soon.

The man wouldn't see him and just had him leave the papers at the front desk, but that didn't stop Peter from lingering long enough to catch a glimpse of the guy. When it finally happened, he didn't know whether to buy Egon a medal or sign him up for the next amateur featherweight fight. For a fairly passive guy, he sure knew how to get hits in – even if it looked like he only landed three. Based on the swelling on his cheek, Smart had to be missing at least one tooth. His eye was a colorful shade of purple and his once perfect smile was marred by an impressively swollen lip – which had him dribbling coffee all over his white shirt.

The sight of it had Peter laughing all the way home.

So, how did I do?

I have many more ideas for this universe, so let me know if you want more stories like this.

Thank you for reading, your feedback is appreciated.