It wasn't the sight of her getting out of that limo that did it, although he did wonder how the correct explanation for the phenomenon had been the first explanation to enter his mind, instantly, before he could possibly have had grounds for reasonably supposing it.
It wasn't the sight of her touching his chest – in spite of the shock, he was calm enough to note that he'd never seen her in that position from this angle before.
It wasn't the sight of him kissing her hand as if she were a prized possession of his, with complete confidence that, by her permission, he could avail himself of this privilege and more whenever he chose.
It wasn't the way she introduced him as if he were some valuable gem she was proud to show off.
It wasn't his condescending, smarmy, superior greeting to each of them, as if he was bestowing a great honor upon them by acknowledging their presence and allowing it to approach so close to his greatness.
It was her smile that made something within him snap. The smile she gave this stranger, this nobody, who obviously had no positive qualities whatsoever. That was his smile! The smile she reserved for him every time she bid him good-bye after summoning them with that siren, every time she welcomed them home afterwards, every time they found the behavior of one or more of their companions more amusingly crazy than usual, every time the ecstasy of some victory or escape drove her to throw herself into his arms, every time she grabbed his arm and said things that caused her to gloat as she made him blush. It was different than the smile she gave anyone else; he was only the one she smiled at that way. That smile was for him and him alone, and this intruder had no right to it. That's my smile, had been the only thought he could hear in his mind as he walked through the snow and faced the grinning stranger like he would a thief breaking into his home.
Peter felt guilty. He'd once promised his friends that he never had and never would regret anything he ever did in his entire life as deeply as he regretted not burning those infected uniforms that came back to haunt them (literally), but, today, he was forced to break his promise. Because he had never regretted anything as much as he now regretted not having a video camera to capture that instant where the look of simple confusion on Egon Spengler's face morphed so seamlessly into a scowl of the purest loathing. He'd worn that death glare throughout the entire encounter outside the firehouse and was still wearing it now. Not that there was anything unnatural about such a display of emotion... for mere mortals. Peter never would have believed his Vulcan friend was capable of so human a reaction if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes. It was so fascinating that he couldn't bring himself to focus on the new job they were heading to – his mind was fully engrossed by the impossible phenomenon he'd just witnessed.
Actually, the most confusing thing about the event wasn't that it had happened but that it had been so obvious as it happened. On those rare occasions when the cold-blooded Egon must feel, he was always careful to hide it; no matter how afraid, upset, or worried the man got, he never let you see it. This time, however, he'd apparently been so overcome by the emotional slap in the face he'd received that he'd completely forgotten to put up his defenses. He hadn't even tried to put on his customary mask of aloofness but let his jealousy show on his face for all to see. How powerful would something have to be to force the stoic Dr. Spengler to break such a fundamental rule?
Did Egon even know what he'd just done, or hadn't he realized it yet? Peter got his answer when, to his surprise, Egon – his eyes on the PKE meter in his hands, his fingers working the dials – turned out to be the first to speak: "Any of you know about Janine's new boyfriend?" Either he couldn't keep the annoyance out of his voice... or he didn't realize he wasn't! He really had no idea what he'd just let everyone see! How much time did they have before it hit him? How would he react when it did? One thing was certain: his attempt to distract himself with his favorite toy was failing.
Peter grinned and leaned back against the window, grateful that the two of them had ended up in the back, giving him the best view of the show. He heard Winston answer casually, "She didn't say anything to me."
"I had no idea she was seeing anyone," Ray added, sounding much more surprised.
For his part, Peter shrugged and said, "Nope. Guess the subject never came up."
"How long has she been seeing him?" Egon asked immediately, as if their answers somehow indicated they would have this information instead of the opposite.
"This is the first time I've seen him around here," Winston said obligingly as he pulled to a stop.
"I first saw her with that new fur coat three weeks ago, after the first snow," Ray said in his calculating voice. "I remember wondering how she could afford it."
"What a cheapskate," Peter said in mock indignation. "Guy that rich could afford to buy her at least one coat for each day of the week."
"No kidding," Ray agreed with a short laugh as the light turned green and they drove on. "I just read last week how Grossjuck Industries just won some big, new contract with the state."
"Where would she have met him?" Egon asked next, still not looking up.
"Could've been anywhere," Peter said dismissively before turning back towards the front seat. "Yeah, they make some pretty cool gadgets over there – guy must be a real genius..."
"He's the owner of a technology firm, Peter, not an inventor," Egon said in the same stiff tone.
"Sure seems like a nice guy," Winston said with a grin and a wink at Ray.
"Yeah, real polite for someone so famous..." Ray returned the look before turning back to share it with Peter – neither of those two may be enjoying this as much as he was, but they were hardly oblivious to how things stood between two certain members of their organization.
The three of them were free to grin as they pleased since Egon still had his eyes pointed firmly down at the meter in his hands as if it were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen, although he did say, "He's hardly famous, Ray. I highly doubt anyone outside the scientific community would even know he or his organization existed."
"I've never heard of him..." Peter said generously.
Winston took the hint. "Yeah... wonder why she never mentioned him..." If Egon noticed their tone, he was hiding it very well.
"I wish she had," was Ray's contribution. "His company just came out with this new lightweight motor it would be great to test in Ecto-2 – think he'd give us a discount?"
That made Egon look up. "There's no need for that – whatever it is, I'm sure we could design our own in half the time and at half the price..." He now noticed what look all three of his companions were wearing, and Peter saw the horrifying realization of what he'd been saying sink in. He took two seconds to collect himself and clear his throat before saying, his voice and features finally straining to stay neutral, "Besides, there's no telling how much longer this will last – she might not have a chance to bring him around again."
Peter could actually hear Winston's grin broaden as he said, "I don't know... Janine really seemed to like him..."
"He seems to like her, too," Ray said, with more sincerity than sarcasm.
"Can you blame him?" Peter wondered aloud. "I'm just surprised this is the first guy I've ever seen her date."
"Yeah, what's up with that?" Winston asked as he turned left. "I mean, Janine's pretty, she's nice, smart, fun, sweet, funny..."
Peter couldn't resist nodding and saying in a voice dripping with insinuation, "Yeah, she's got the whole package, all right... shame to see all that go to waste..." Egon now gave him an even more lethal glare than he'd given Paul Smart. Peter, however, held his gaze, and they sat facing each other with their arms crossed. "Well, good for her – it's about time she had a little fun. Smart seems like a good catch."
"He seems to be treating her okay," Ray said with brotherly concern.
"What was your first clue?" Peter asked. "The fur coat or the limo ride?"
"Janine sure knows how to pick 'em, all right," Winston observed.
"Personally, I've always had my doubts about that before today." As soon as Peter's reply was finished, Egon looked away towards the road ahead.
Ray was grinning from ear to ear as he said in the most exaggeratedly serious tone, "Come on, guys, you don't think Janine would date someone just for their money, do you?"
"Oh, no," Peter assured him just as sincerely. "I'm sure there's much more to him than that."
"Can't imagine what," Egon said icily. "The man looks like he spends two hours every morning practicing how to smile as smugly as possible."
"Beats someone who never smiles at her at all," Peter said nonchalantly.
"What could she see in him?" As this was directed at the two up front, Peter couldn't tell if Egon's question was involuntary or an attempt to ignore him.
"A sophisticated gentleman," was Winston's instant, simple answer.
"A renowned businessman," was Ray's. The two of them continued to alternate:
"Someone generous."
"Someone friendly."
"Someone she can talk to, spend time with."
"Someone who listens to her."
Peter wrapped it up with, "Someone who pays attention to her and doesn't swat her away like a fly."
There was a pause before Egon said in his standard monotone, "He didn't seem very trustworthy to me."
Peter thought someone ought to say it: "Of course he didn't."
Egon simply added, "People that polite are usually hiding something."
"Of course they are."
"Something wasn't right about the way he looked at her."
"Of course it wasn't." Peter heard Ray and Winston holding back their laughter up front.
"Nothing fancy, but we call it home..." Peter couldn't remember ever before hearing Egon Spengler mock someone's accent like that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"That it's smaller than his high-rise in California?" Peter suggested with a shrug.
"And what was he thinking, standing out there talking with her in the snow?"
"Think we should've invited him in?" Since Egon's only reaction was to narrow his eyes even more, Peter added, "Meh, I'm sure Janine did after we left, anyway..."
That got Egon to raise his voice considerably. "Why wouldn't she tell us about him?", he demanded, as if that proved that Janine knew and was hiding something unacceptable.
This was the part Peter had been waiting for: "Why would she tell us about him? It's none of our business."
Winston backed him up with, "I don't bring my girlfriends around the firehouse."
Ray added, "Yeah, whatever Janine does on her own time is up to her."
Peter leaned forward and said, very slowly, "Exactly. Why would any of the people in this car have any reason to care who Janine Melnitz is dating?"
Ray must have thought they had gone far enough. "Well, Janine is like our sister, guys..."
Peter smirked as he repeated, "Right – like our sister, and we should all be glad that she's happy."
Egon scoffed at the suggestion. "Janine happy with that? She's not... she couldn't..."
Annoyed that Egon had caught himself again but much more amused, Peter drummed his fingers on the crook of his elbow. "Something wrong, Egon?"
He managed to sound impressively calm (albeit with obvious effort) when he replied, "Why would anything be wrong?"
"You tell us."
"Everything. Is. Perfectly. Fine."
"It better be." Another red light allowed Winston to turn around and briefly face Egon. "If not, you better hurry and fix it before it's too late."
Picking up the abandoned PKE meter from the seat beside him with one hand and adjusting his glasses with the other, Egon said, "Thank you for the sage advice, Winston; I hope you've shared it with Janine."
Peter pressed him with, "What about Janine?"
"I merely hope Janine isn't making a mistake in her choice of social attachments. Like Ray said, we all have reason to be concerned with her welfare and conduct, and this is highly unusual behavior for her."
"We don't know that," Ray said innocently. "She could be dating guys left and right that we don't know about..."
Peter wished he hadn't snickered at that and made him stop, but the way Egon flinched when he heard that was too much. "She wouldn't..." was all he said, however.
"Yeah, she wouldn't," Winston mercifully assured him.
"But, if she wanted to, she could," Peter pointed out.
They all cringed at the sharp crack as Egon twisted the dial on the meter so hard, it snapped off in his hand. Shaking his head, he mumbled, "She never has before."
"So, she changed her mind," Peter said with another shrug.
"She shouldn't have sprung it on... us like that. She should have given us some advance notice before... bringing him to the fire hall. She can't just...!" His control was noticeably fading during those last three words, but, to Peter's disappointment, he caught himself before the outburst could escape. Egon must have finally accepted that speaking would only weaken his delayed case for his own indifference, as he now fell resolutely silent.
They would never get him to admit anything; however, Peter thought he could, at least, rob him of the ability to misdirect all his anger at Janine and this Paul Smart. He was obligated to defend his honorary sister's rights, after all. "We almost there, Winston?" he asked as if the preceding conversation hadn't happened.
"Just two more miles," the driver informed him.
"Good. I hope this job doesn't take too long – I'm starved; we haven't even stopped for lunch yet. Wish we had some of that pizza from Memo's left back at the office."
As Peter had hoped, Ray groaned at that speech. "Oh, come on, Peter, you're not still going on about that, are you?"
Winston was kind enough to provide the needed segue without even knowing it was needed: "About what?"
Peter waved his hand as he said, "Oh, I just got upset last night when I found out Ray ate the last slice of my deluxe pizza with extra cheese, olives, mushrooms, and grilled chicken. But you were absolutely right, Ray... Yeah, I was mad – I mean, I was counting on it being there, and you knew it was my favorite – but remember what you said to me last night?"
Ray sounded confused, but he answered the question: "Uh, that it was sitting there so long, I just assumed no one wanted it, and it couldn't sit there forever, so... I took it?" Perfect!
"And you were absolutely right!" Dr. Venkman said triumphantly. "If you don't grab it, you can't complain when someone else does." He watched the driver and front passenger exchange one look but restrained himself from glancing at the third member of his audience for the rest of the ride – the man was entitled to confront his hypocrisy in private.
They arrived at the supermarket to find a trio of Class 5 Full Roaming Vapors soaring up and down the aisles, wreaking havoc. The car had barely pulled up when Egon Spengler all but leaped out and fired right at them with all the force of an exploding supernova. He had trapped one of them and blasted another before his teammates had recovered from the shock of such a sudden violent display. His psychologist friend was confident the message had gotten through.
Sad, indeed, must the state of his mind be when Peter Venkman could think more rationally than he did!
You have no right to care, he told himself sternly as he tossed the traps into the car. If only he'd remembered that from the start, when his scientist's mind felt the need to start asking questions and finding answers. He forgot himself, forgot that he had no business asking, forgot that it was no concern of his, that he had forfeited that right long ago. By the time he became conscious of what he was saying and revealing, it was too late.
You have no right to complain, he reminded himself as they returned home. She was there at her desk, doodling something on her blotter, leaning her chin against her hand, smiling and humming. He paused on the staircase to watch her. Before today, he would have known that smile meant she was thinking about him. But he'd been replaced.
You never wanted that place. He was free now. He'd never have her following after him with that lustful look in her eyes or dangling from his arm again. He should be happy. Relieved.
You never wanted any of it. That smile had never been his; he'd never accepted it.
So this was jealousy: fearing to lose what was never yours. It was an interesting experience…
He'd always known he was right to avoid all this ridiculous romance nonsense! Silently fuming at himself for his own weakness, Egon trudged upstairs without turning to look at his three friends lined up against the wall as he passed.
One of them wasn't grinning anymore. "Think he'll be all right?" the empathic Ray wondered aloud.
"He'll be fine," Winston said confidently. " 'Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love.' "
Peter briefly flashed back to the only English assignment he'd enjoyed reading in college before he added, "If you ask me, he's better now than he's been in twenty-some years," and put his arms around both their shoulders. "Ah… just think, guys – our little Egon is finally growing up." With that, he marched upstairs humming a familiar tune. It ended with him murmuring in a low voice, "If I only had a heart…" right before the door to the lab slammed shut.
You can't hide from it forever, Spengs, Peter thought with another satisfied smirk. Not that he wouldn't try. Only time would tell if this dose of jealousy would produce any long-term beneficial effects. Conditions that went untreated for so long didn't always respond well to treatment, but, given the patient's promising response today, maybe it wasn't a hopeless case after all…