A long week of a silent phone and an inactive city had created a suffocating, boring lull for the Ghostbusters. While Dr. Raymond 'Ray' Stantz kept busy at his bookstore, Winston Zeddemore had all but taken Ecto-1 apart with all of the maintenance and repairs performed on the iconic hearse, Dr. Peter Venkman had spent most of his time with his on-again, off-again love interest Dana Barrett, and Dr. Egon Spengler had busied himself with fine tuning the delicate equipment used by the intrepid heroes during their busts and overall research.

As for the fiery receptionist, Janine Meltnitz, she had finished off the impressive stack of paperwork and left early to go see a movie with her current beau, the English professor Roger Baugh. She also left instructions that no one was to bother her while she was out enjoying herself.

Returning from a rather short date, Dana's young son Oscar came down with a cold, Peter strolled through the firehouse's garage and ran his finger along the freshly polished frame of Ecto-1. "Not bad Zed." Peter complimented as he admired the professional detailing Winston had given the old hearse. "Want to take a day and get my dad's old Caddy up and running again?"

"I don't think you can afford me." Winston joked as he wiped engine grease off of his strong hands onto an old red rag. His gray t-shirt and faded blue jeans were also coated in grease and oil from his work under the hood of the car. "How was your date?"

"It was going great until the babysitter called." Peter leaned against the car and sighed disappointingly. "I don't imagine Dana was expecting to end the evening with wiping a toddler's runny nose all night."

"Oscar's sick? Poor kid."

"Poor Dana." Peter sighed as he stood up straight again and slipped off his nice evening jacket. "I don't imagine that deadbeat dad of Oscar's is the type of guy to actually take care of his own kid, let alone help out his ex."

"You going to help her out instead?"

"I'll check in on them tomorrow." Peter admitted while breaking eye contact with Winston. The emotionally reserved psychologist hated showing his sweeter side, especially to his colleagues. "Where's the Scarecrow and Tinman?"

"Spengler is in the basement," Winston replied sharply having gotten used to Peter's random pet names and references he often gave his team mates. Egon was considered the brain and Ray was considered the heart of the team. "and Ray's at his store."

"Ray surrounded by books and weirdos doesn't bother me," Peter's inquisitive blue eyes narrowed as he stared at the basement stairs. "but Egon tinkering away with his little toys in private does."

"Sometimes I think you're a little paranoid Venkman." Winston dismissed his concerns with a light chuckle as he tossed aside the dirty red rag and made his way toward the staircase leading to the second floor. "I'm going to take a shower and try to relax. Let me know if we get a call."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure." Peter was less interested in Winston and more interested in Egon. "Like a blaring Klaxon would go unnoticed without me pointing it out."

Wandering casually into the basement Peter spied Egon hunched over some metal contraption sitting on the workbench. Egon had foregone his white lab coat in favor of wearing his gray jumpsuit worn normally on busts, as he decided that physical work ruined the white fabric too often. A soldering iron was gripped in his right hand and a metal pick was in his left. Using the two tools in unison the physicist expertly utilized his knowledge and skills to fine tune the delicate piece of equipment that was prey to his enhancements. A piece of equipment that Peter could have sworn Egon had locked up in storage.

"Working late?" Peter asked loudly hoping to get a reaction from Egon as he approached the workbench.

"Just a few adjustments, nothing complicated." Egon replied with a firm, unflinching tone as he continued to work without breaking pace.

"Nothing complicated, huh?" Peter stepped closer and eyed the equipment under Egon's hands. His suspicions were confirmed as he correctly identified the equipment as the supposedly scrapped trap prototype. "The last time I checked that very malfunctioning prototype you're so painstakingly modifying redefined complicated."

Egon paused momentarily and set aside his tools long enough to look Peter in the eye. "Yes. This prototype has caused us more problems than it has granted solutions. But I've been analyzing the data-"

"And you think you can make that thing safe? Have you finally gone off the deep end?" Peter wasn't willing to even risk a test run with a lab mouse when it came that the prototype. "No. No way Spengz! We almost lost Ray with that damn thing and it took him almost six months to get over it!"

"Which is why I've been working on it private."

"Yeah, well I'm sure Ray appreciates you sneaking around behind his back." Peter accused harshly. "I thought you had better judgement than that."

"Peter I can assure you that I'm not sneaking around, nor am I attempting to elicit any form deceit." Egon defended without blinking as he returned his attention to the opened control panel on the side of the prototype. "I'm attempting to correct a massive mistake to ensure that any other similar mistakes will not be committed in the foreseeable future."

"And you're keep Ray out of this because...?"

"Because as you previously stated it has taken Ray a noticeable amount of time to readjust and come to terms with the events he had endured after the prototype had taken him to a parallel New York." Slamming the panel shut and replacing the screws Egon finished his explanation. "I do not want to hamper Ray's emotional recovery or push him into a situation that he is not fully comfortable with comprehending."

"Huh." Peter couldn't argue with Egon's logic or reasoning. Satisfied that Egon was in fact acting in Ray's best interest he changed his tone toward the confrontation. "So what have you found out? Do you know what went wrong?"

"In theory." Egon checked the power levels on the prototype before facing Peter again. "I believe that the prototype functioned properly based solely on the PKE signature being provided by the incorporeal being and was able to perform the same function on Ray, a corporeal being that was thoroughly coated in PKE rich slime; with the error laying in not the prototype but the coordinates."

Peter took a moment to process everything Egon had just said before responding. "The prototype worked, it sent our ghost and our Ghostbuster to another plane as it should have, but it was just the wrong plane. Did I get that right?"

"Yes. Correct." Egon attempted to show Peter his mathematical equations and the in depth physics that had been involved in the prototype's creations, but the psychologist was as disinterested as he was clueless. "If we can adjust the coordinates to the proper plane, a plane of non-existence or a plane of the dead, then the prototype can still function as we intended as a safer alternative to the containment unit."

"Did you fix it?"

"Possibly."

Peter sighed as pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Why can't you just say: 'Yes, everything is fine. Go to bed now.'?"

"A brief test will either confirm or-"

"A test." Peter's tone reverted back to a colder level. "You want to test it. Are you going to test before we get a call, or during again? Please choose the former over the latter option."

"Of course I will." Egon shot Peter a less than kind glance as he took the prototype from the workbench, with a PKE meter in his other hand, and carried it to the secondary basement adjacent to the main basement. It was used primarily for storage and training, which made it ideal for equipment tests. "If you recall correctly the first time the prototype was activated was by Ray on an overenthusiastic whim. This is not a whim."

"I'm surprised you know anything about whimsy Spengz."

"Funny Venkman." Egon sat the prototype down and ran the cable out to its full length to ensure that he and Peter were both clear of the trap's field radius. "As soon as the trap is activated I will scan it with a PKE meter and track the coordinates to confirm or debunk my theory."

"Wasn't 'debunked theory' the name of the shot you gave to me after we graduated?" Peter seemed to be lost in deep thought.

"Yes." Egon held the release trigger in his hands. "Ray and found you passed out naked in the football with two cheerleaders and hijacked ice cream truck."

"Oh yeah... That's right- Hey!" Peter laughed at the memory then blushed. "I wasn't NAKED, I was still in my boxers. Also, we didn't hijack the ice cream truck, we BORROWED it."

"Whatever you say Venkman." Egon turned his gaze away from the trap. "Trap out."

"Right." Peter put his arm up and over his eyes to protect himself from the impending bright light. "Ready."

Pressing the trigger the doors of the trap burst open with the white ionized light that illuminated the basement in a pure glow. Keeping his eyes distant from the trap Egon approached the PKE meter functioning and out at arm's length. As the meter scanned the air and recorded all of the energy levels being emitted by both the prototype and the of the secondary plane that had been bridged through the prototype.

"I'm getting something." Egon confirmed as he stepped closer, careful not to stand too near the trap. "The coordinates show-"

A surge of energy pulsed from the prototype and shorted out the battery on the PKE meter. Egon looked down at the display as the needle peaked and the glass screen cracked from the powerful energy wave. The intense pulse cracked the lenses of Egon's glass as well making it nearly impossible for the physicist to see his work.

"Spengz, get away from there!" Peter urged boldly as a second energy pulse shot out from the prototype.

The second pulse was strong enough to knock the two men from their feet and onto their backs after flying backward by the blast. Egon bumped the back of his head on the cold, concrete floor and was instantly rendered unconscious by the impact.

Peter tried to sit upright from where he had fallen but the pulse had enough electrical discharge to send a numbing sensation all through his body. Unable to move properly or show any sign of articulated coordination he helplessly watched as a third pulse erupted from the prototype and flooded the entire basement in light.

The intense wave of energy resonated throughout the entire building and caused all of the electrical components and instruments to surge and power down. The lights flickered brightly before going out entirely leaving the building, save for the basement, in utter blackness.

From the second floor Winston stood in the bunk room and watched as the digital alarm clock beside his bed flashed on and off, the numbers frantically changing and the alarm itself going on and off intermittently.

"What the hell is going on?!"

The prototype's power level reached its limit and unleashed a massive wave of energy that enveloped everything and everyone that was unfortunate enough to be in its immediate proximity before burning itself out. With a single mournful groan the prototype powered itself down and all was still in the firehouse. The basement was filled with darkness and the intoxicating and distinct aroma of fresh ozone.

"Sp-Spengz?" Peter called out hoarsely as the feeling returned to his hands and feet. Pushing himself upright on his elbows he struggled to see through the darkness and locate his friend. "Spengler? You okay?"

Winston's heavy footsteps marched down the stairs with a powerful flashlight guiding his way. The beam shone on Peter and caused the marine to react quickly at the sight of his fallen friend.

"Peter! What happened down here? What were you guys doing?" He knelt beside Peter and grabbed onto his arm to support the downed man. "Hey! Are you alright?"

"Fine." Peter muttered as Winston helped him up to his feet. His legs were noticeably trembling and still a little numb, but were able to seemingly support his weight just fine. "How's Spengler?"

Winston shined the light through the basement but couldn't see anyone else laying on the floor or standing in the middle of the room. Only the smoldering, failed prototype occupied the overwhelmed and freshly damaged room.

"Peter, where is Egon?" Winston sounded more confused than frightened, but either trait was never a good sign coming from the seasoned marine. "I can't find him!"

...to be continued...