Disclaimer: I don't own any version of the Ghostbusters.

Happy 1990, New York!

New Year's Eve, 1989

Erica Crane had heard of the famous ball dropping in Times Square on New Year's Eve, but she had no desire to go out in the negative temperatures to experience the phenomenon. It was a bit of a catch-22 for the thirty-year-old archivist; she loved history but remained ever nervous about the present. Except the present had a tendency to become history, and what better excitement than to be a part of history? So around and around she went in her head for days before the event, eventually coming to the conclusion that it would be no fun to go alone into the freezing night. And since she'd managed to alienate her one real friend, (a lovely woman named Dana Barrett), only a few days before, she decided to stay in, unpack, and watch television.

It was an icy night in New York City, but the celebratory sounds of New Year's were already ramping up and pressing against the windows. Vibrations of excitement filled the air as cars honked and wove their way through increasing traffic, heading for the heartbeat of Times Square. There had been a threat of snow but it seemed like the clouds were breaking. The moon fought for coverage amongst the city lights, sending a little silvery ribbon through the windows of Erica's apartment. The ribbon danced with the flicker of the television and the soft glow of the Christmas lights strung up on the walls. Outside the door, enthusiastic shrieking and yelling accompanied the thudding of running feet as children ran up and down the halls and adults eagerly greeted each other.

Erica took a sip of sparkling apple cider and tore open yet another box in the piles before her. She had moved from to New York City from Eugene, Oregon only a couple weeks before, and still had neither completely unpacked nor settled down. The pulse of the city was unlike anything she'd anticipated. There had been moments in Eugene where she could sit still and listen to her heartbeat. Now it felt like her nervous system was constantly being rubbed raw by all the electricity and energies and sounds of the people around her. She had had awful headaches every night for the first few days she'd been there, and was only just being able to put her bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet instead of keeping it by her bed. I'll be fine in another month or so, probably.

The box in front of her yielded VHS tapes full of recorded video on subjects like the moon landing, performances of Ray Charles and Aretha Franklin, and episodes of Star Trek, Unsolved Mysteries, and various History Channel and National Geographic Channel specials. Erica heaved the box and her glass of cider over to her small entertainment center and knelt, putting the videos away in alphabetical order. As she did so, a scream from her TV startled her. Losing her balance, she fell back onto her butt and knocked over the glass of apple cider.

"It's that darn ghost again! He just won't leave us alone!" A woman with frightening red hair and large, black-rimmed glasses sat on a bed, looking pretend-horrified at a ghost being pulled in front of the camera by a string. Erica sighed frustratedly and stood up, stalking to the kitchen to grab a rag. She'd seen the ads for the Ghostbusters almost as soon as her TV had gotten hooked up, and couldn't help but think that "catching" an incorporeal ghost, sealing it away, and making money off of it seemed to be a pretty pretentious and, frankly, insulting business.

She had been careful not to bring this up to Dana out of respect for her and her boyfriend Peter who was, in fact, one of the aforementioned Ghostbusters. But one day her curiosity had gotten the better of her. She'd casually asked if the Ghostbusters were serious, and Dana had promptly launched into a story that had left Erica's jaw hanging and her grip on reality so shaken that she had simply walked out. She hadn't spoken to Dana since, and was already beginning to feel like an idiot and a hypocrite.

She got back to the TV and began scrubbing at the floor, mopping up the spilled cider. You're the one who always brags about having an open mind, she silently chastised herself. She'd have no reason to make up a story like that. You should really go apologize to Dana.

Of course, she knew some part of her wanted Dana to be lying. The story had not been happy. It had involved blackouts and destruction and chaos. It wasn't just some bad dream. If Dana wasn't lying, then not only was paranormal activity real, it was dangerous. And that was a horrible realization to come to.

Erica's TV squeaked suddenly, drawing her attention once more. This time, however, she slowly sank onto her butt on purpose, her eyes widening as she watched what was on screen.

What was on screen was the Statue of Liberty. And the Statue of Liberty was walking...walking!...down the city streets. What? Erica cracked her hand against the television in excitement as she reached to turn the volume up, but she ignored the pain. The rapid-fire speech of the newscaster was nearly too fast to follow, but she began to catch on as the scenes changed. From the camera angle, she could see that there were four men up in the crown of the statue. They were too small to see, but they were waving their hands excitedly and the crowds below were responding with cheers and shouts of joy. The camera changed to show the statue approaching a large building covered in a strange purple slime, and then suddenly cut to a scene earlier in the day. The Ghostbusters were there, shooting beams of light from the weird contraptions they always had on their backs. The beams of light hit the purple slime but did nothing at all to it. The camera switched back to the Statue of Liberty, who was now standing next to the building and raising her torch above it.

That's the Manhattan Museum of Art! Erica's stunned brain realized. That's where Dana works! And she vanished a couple of days ago...

Spill forgotten, she stared at the television in wonder and shock as the Statue smashed through the rotunda window of the Museum, and four people dropped into the building. The mood on the screen was tense, anxious, even frightened. Was that them? What's going on?

Never taking her eyes from the TV, Erica slowly rose and walked backwards towards her couch, settling onto it and grabbing her phone. She dialed Dana's number and let it ring and ring and ring. There was no answer and she let the receiver slowly fall back to the cradle. The fear from the TV slid into her veins, the same fear she had been trying to avoid by walking out of Dana's apartment. Something otherworldly is happening and I can't reach Dana. Is she all right? What is happening?

She didn't know how long she sat there, eyes glued to the TV, until the mood on the screen changed suddenly. People began to sing and rock back and forth. The newscaster's speech changed as well, notes of hope and surprise and wonder creeping into his voice. A small ticker flashed on the screen and Erica realized the New Year had rung in. But the people weren't afraid anymore. Standing in front of the Manhattan Museum of Art, with the New Year rising over their heads and the Statue of Liberty hovering protectively over them all, they were singing.

Something happened.

A beam of light shot out of the crowd and hit the slime around the Manhattan Museum of Art, shimmering brightly against it. Erica recognized the beam: it was one of the Ghostbusters. People fell away from around the lone figure, who was standing firmly on the ground, firing at the slime.

Then, suddenly, the slime at the top of the building cracked.

The crack was far away from the beam of light, but it spidered out like an egg, shattering the slime, the pieces lifting and vanishing into the night. The beam of light stopped and the white building shone bright and new. Erica gasped and put her hands over her mouth as screams of joy exploded from the singing crowd, and the sound of her nervous system howled in her ears. She watched, a ridiculous smile spreading across her face, as the front doors opened and a group of people poured out. Tears pricked at her eyes as she recognized Dana, clutching her baby Oscar, Peter hovering close to them and never breaking contact.

The lone figure in front of the building bolted up to join the group and then began walking down the stairs with them, cheering and throwing his hands up. The camera zoomed in to look at them and Erica realized the lone figure was the man who was in the commercial with the red-haired woman. The other members of the group looked a mess, indicating some kind of battle behind the doors, some kind of battle she couldn't wait to ask Dana about. She's all right. Oscar's all right. I have got to go apologize to her tomorrow.

The only person she didn't recognize seemed to be covered head to toe in the same purple slime that had just lifted off of the building. With the camera zoomed in and the lights, she realized he, too, was wearing a Ghostbusters uniform. There are five of them now? She tried to read his nametag but it was completely covered. She lifted her eyes to his face to see if she could recall it from the ads.

Everyone was smiling. But he was exuding joy, radiating it out from every motion of his body and every muscle in his face. His warm smile reached right through the TV and hit Erica in a place she did not expect. She felt her breath catch and a sensation of falling overtook her. At the same moment, she realized it didn't matter that she had no idea who he was. She just wanted to be the woman who could make him smile like that every day of his life.

She watched the screen until the group was swallowed up by the crowd and the camera pulled away to reveal the celebrations of the New Year. She was amazed to realize that for the first time since she had actually moved to New York, she felt a powerful sense of hope. It mingled with the shock and the remnants of the terror she had felt only minutes before. It was a new year now, a new decade. It was a decade where she could apologize for being a complete hypocrite, where she could finish unpacking her boxes and move into her new life, where she could begin to accept that there were actual supernatural occurrences in the world (because what else could that slime have been?), where she could go and meet a man who had the most amazing smile she had ever seen in her life, waking or sleeping.

Erica stood up and went to her window, opening it wide, letting the energy and the icy chill hit her. She stretched her arms wide and let it soak in for a moment before leaning out and shouting: "Happy 1990, New York!"

If you like Erica or just want to read more about the Ghostbusters, I will be releasing a fanfiction in early 2017 that is set in the movie universe, six months after the events of Ghostbusters II. In the story, Peter Venkman deals with how his parents died and Raymond Stantz faces the destruction of his beloved bookshop as a new ghost in town makes it personal for the Ghostbusters.