Egon/Peter, developing relationship. Mentions of Ray and Charlie Venkman
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Peter liked making introductions. So far as Egon could tell, it was something of a reflex by this point. The psychologist spent so much time schmoozing that "doctor" began to roll off his tongue before you could blink. He had introduced their motley band of paranormal specialists more times than anyone could count (actually, Egon's numbers totaled 152 over the years, if you didn't factor in client meetings), but the physicist still took particular pleasure in hearing Peter introduce him to others. No matter the recipient of the inevitable handshake hello, Peter always made Egon sound so important.
The first time he had noticed was the day he met Ray. Peter had dragged the freshman along to a lunch date (not an actual date, of course, not then) of his and Egon's and introduced Egon with a wave of his hand. "Egon, this is Ray Stantz, the whiz kid I was telling you about. Ray, this is Egon Spengler, future ruler of the world and my friend."
It occurred to Egon that he had never heard Peter speak in that particular tone of voice. It contained his usual note of dry humor, yes, but it also contained a sort of pride. It also occurred to him that he had never heard Peter refer to him as his friend before. Even as he engaged in their usual banter, the instance struck him as important. "Really, Peter. I should think ruler of the world would be your aspiration."
"Yeah, I decided I don't actually want to do any of that important decision-making crap. I'll let you be the brains and make the world a better place and I'll just be the incredibly rich and handsome figurehead."
"How generous of you."
The day Peter had introduced Egon to his father had been of another tone entirely. "Dad, this is Doctor Egon Spengler." Indeed, by the time Mr. Venkman met Peter's friends, Egon had already received his doctorate.
Peter seemed genuinely happy to see his father, but he held himself with almost smug satisfaction as he introduced the blond. It almost seemed that he was saying to the man, look what I've got that you'll never have. As if Egon's friendship was a pristine item Peter had obtained despite his father's influence. And as Egon grasped the older Venkman's hand to shake in greeting, he barely glanced at the balding man and instead directed a small smile at Peter, who returned it with a wink.
Though, if ever there was weight in Peter's voice as he introduced Egon, it was the day Egon met Mrs. Venkman. "Mom, this is Egon." The brunet paused, "It's taken us a while to get out here, but I figured he was someone worth bringing."
The blond was silent, uncertain what to say. He pondered the inflection of Peter's voice. Egon. No title, not even his last name, as if those things held no importance here. And they didn't really, he supposed. To Peter, first and foremost, he was simply Egon—friend, colleague, lover—and his name held all those meanings in the way the other man said it.
The silence stretched on. "This seems pretty silly, huh?" Peter asked finally.
"Not at all. I'm very glad you brought me here. One can never tell, after all, whether they are still watching."
Peter's eyes didn't stray from the gravestone before them. "Yeah. Guess not."