A/N: Hi, and thank you for reading! Just a little background for where this came from: I loved the new Ghostbusters, so it got my imagination going. I wanted to write a story with them, and then realized I have a pair of awesome ghosts that I have been writing about for 10 years. The story came pretty quickly after that, and I thought it might be nice for Halloween. I also have a lot of fun facts in this one. Some of them are true, some of them are not. :)
Superstar
The plane touched down on the runway of Van Nuys Airport, and as soon as it reached the tarmac, the paranormal ghost-fighting group known as the Ghostbusters started gathering their things. Normally, they worked out of New York and the surrounding boroughs, but the client who had called had a problem in Los Angeles, and she was willing to charter a jet to bring them out to LA. The chartered jet had been a necessity not only for expediency, but also because most of Holtzmann's equipment had been banned from flying in commercial aircraft by the FAA, a fact that Holtz was still inordinately proud of.
"Being banned from something by the government is not usually a good thing, Holtz," Erin pointed out as they waited on the tarmac for their luggage and equipment to be brought out.
"Only the finest scientists get banned, Gilbert," Holtz disagreed with a wink.
While they were waiting, a white van came on to the tarmac and over to the plane, stopping just shy of the luggage compartment. A thin, taller woman with sandy-brown hair got out, and her cheerful smile, along with her relaxed dress of jeans, blouse and sweater, put the New York women at ease instantly. She was also covered in interesting looking tattoos, and quite simply, she was nothing like the potentially-snobbish woman they were expecting. "Hi! I'm Leah," she introduced herself, holding out her hand. "And you must be the Ghostbusters. Thank you for coming so quickly."
One by one, the other ladies shook the proffered hand. "We are," Abby confirmed. "And thank you for sending the plane. Most of our clients don't have that kind of money."
Leah laughed easily. "Well, money isn't really a problem for my organization," she admitted. Before she could say more, one of the airport workers signaled that they were ready to load everything up in the van, so Leah went around back and opened up the luggage compartment. Under Holtz' careful supervision, the men loaded up the back while Leah opened up the side door for the other ladies. Within a few minutes, everyone and everything was loaded, and Leah drove them out of the airport.
"Where are we again?" Patty asked as they pulled out onto a wide boulevard. "This doesn't really look like the pictures you see of LA."
"That's probably because you've seen pictures of LAX," Leah explained. "We're at Van Nuys, in the Valley. Most of the charters come to this airport because it's easier."
"Oh," Patty said. "Then where are we going?" she asked, as they got on one of LA's interminable freeways.
"The Hollywood Hills," Leah replied, "In the ridgeline above the Hollywood Bowl. When the Bowl is in season, you can hear the concerts. It's really nice actually."
"I bet it would be," Erin agreed. "How long has your organization owned your property?"
"Since 1933, about eleven years after the Bowl opened," Leah replied. "Some of the founding members bought the property and built the house for the organizational headquarters. Over time, it grew into more of an estate, with multiple buildings and areas."
"And exactly which organization are we talking about?" Patty asked. "We didn't quite catch that from your phone call."
"The Hollywood All-Gal Society. 'HAGS' for short. And, yes, the acronym was intentional," she said with a laugh. "It was and still is a group of most of the famous women in Hollywood who come together to meet, socialize and probably most importantly, help out their community."
"And what else might they have done?" Holtzmann piped up from the back. "Witchcraft? Ritualistic Blood Sacrifices? Things that would open the portal to the other side?"
"That would explain our current predicament, but no," Leah answered wryly. "For the most part, they quietly fundraise money to support all of the children's hospitals in Los Angeles. All of their pretty massive yearly donations come with a strict anonymity clause." Leah signaled their exit off the freeway, and she grumbled some complaint about "stupid Universal Studios closing the Barham ramp." A multitude of stomach-turning twists, turns and inclines later, the van stopped at a wrought-iron gate that had an "HA" fashioned into the iron on one side, and "GS" fashioned on the other side. Leah pushed a button in the van, and the gate swung open obediently.
The gravel driveway led to the front of a beautiful Art-Deco mansion surrounded by carefully-sculptured landscaping. Everyone got out, and the Ghostbusters took a minute to appreciate the view, which as Leah mentioned, included the Hollywood Bowl, the Hollywood sign and the Los Angeles Basin with its downtown spires. When the minute was gone, they got their gear from the back and suited up, walking up to Leah waiting at the front door. "There are two spirits," she said, opening the door to reveal the entryway. Abby, Erin, Patty and Holtz walked through the door into the entryway, and all of them were shocked by the opulence of the house. As they walked further in, pictures started lining the hallways, and like Leah had said, every woman in the pictures was a well-known actress save one.
Leah saw their confusion and explained. "That's Frankie," she stated. "One of the founders of HAGS. Officially, she was the 'administrative assistant' of one of the other founders. In reality, they were lovers and pretty much married. But, they couldn't be out without ruining lives, so they hid. Frankie was the lifeblood of this place until she died in 1999."
"Is she one of the ghosts here?" Abby asked, thinking it was a reasonable hypothesis.
"No," Leah replied. "These ghostly ladies look familiar, but I can't place them." She pointed down the hallway to one of the doors. "One of them seems to have taken residence in the archives," she said. "The other goes where she pleases. I would like them out of here, but please be very careful of the artifacts if you can," Leah pleaded.
"Don't worry, baby," Patty assured her. "I know the value of the stuff in here. I'll keep these cretins from blowing up your stuff."
"Cretin?" Holtzmann parroted. "Why I think I am offended, Patricia. My inventions are brilliant pieces of engineering."
"That can blow up things in seconds," Patty deadpanned.
"Only if it is a larger-sized poof," Holtzmann countered.
"No poofs!" Leah begged.
"We'll do our very best," Erin promised, grabbing Holtz' arm. "We'll take the archives!" she announced, dragging Holtz down the hallway to the door Leah had indicated.
"I guess that means we've got the other one," Abby decided, and Patty nodded.
"Thank you all so much," Leah said, and she went to wait outside by the van.
"No poofs, Holtzy," Abby reminded her colleague as she and Patty passed by to look for the other ghost.
"No promises, Abby Tabby," Holtzmann replied with a wink.
"Be quiet, Holtz," Erin requested, putting her hand on the doorknob in preparation for opening it.
"Of course, Mistress," Holtzmann said saucily, and Erin ignored her warming skin. She was attracted to Kevin, she reminded herself. There was no way she could be attracted to Holtzmann.
The door opened easily when Erin opened it, and both women were somehow disappointed that there was no requisite spooky squeak. Their disappointment faded, however, when they spied the most-sharply defined ghost they had ever seen. There was no ambiguity in her form; this was a woman, dressed in khaki pants and a white shirt, with a long, red braid cascading down the length of her back. She was at the bookshelf looking at different titles, and when she found the one she wanted, she smiled, took it off the shelf and placed it on the table. Upon closer inspection, Erin and Holtz saw that the table was covered with sheets of paper that were in turn covered in notes. "She has to be at least a Class Five," Erin whispered, not wanting to alert the ghost to their presence.
"Malevolent or benign?" Holtzmann whispered back, and Erin shrugged.
The ghost, still blithely unaware of their presence, reached into the satchel that was hung on the back of her chair. Much to the two other women's surprise, the ghost drew out an iPop and a set of earbuds. After placing them in her ghostly-pale ears, she hit play and opened her book, reading intently and taking down notes. "Long ago, and oh so far away; I fell in love with you, before the second show," she sang softly, as she read and analyzed.
"I can't believe we are seeing and hearing this," Erin breathed.
"What?" Holtzmann demanded quietly. "She's got a great voice. And besides, Karen Carpenter was a really good singer, and the Carpenters are a woefully underappreciated group. Did you know that song was actually about a groupie, but Richard Carpenter changed the lyrics so the sex was implied and not explicit?"
"I wasn't talking about the song, Holtz," Erin said, her voice tight with exasperation. "I didn't even know what it was. I am talking about the fact that we have a ghost wearing earbuds and singing while she seems to be doing research. She seems to be fully cognizant of everything around her. We don't see a whole lot of ghosts with that level of awareness."
"Good point," Holtzmann replied. "Maybe we can just talk to her then, so we won't have to deal with poofs." Before Erin could stop her, Holtzmann walked up to the table, and finally realizing she wasn't alone, the ghost looked up. She looked Holtzmann up and down before stopping her music and removing her buds. "Hey there," Holtzmann said without preamble. "I hate to interrupt you, but the people who own this place asked us to escort you out."
The ghost looked around at her piles of paper in dismay. "But I am not yet finished with my dissertation research," she said regretfully. "I can see from your uniform that you are the celebrated ghost removal ladies, but would it all be possible for you to desist for a few hours? I would just like to finish a few things, and then I promise you, I will collect my wife, and we will go back home."
"You know us?" Erin asked, surprised.
"I am a ghost, my dear; I have been taking pains not to end up in one of your traps," the ghost said wryly. "I just never occurred to me that this facility would mind our presence."
Holtzmann grinned, liking this ghost immediately. "What is your dissertation about?" she asked, changing the subject.
"At its most basic, inequality and bias in the historical portrayal of famous women," the ghost replied. "In our day, my wife and I were quite famous, but after we passed, we found that we were not portrayed realistically by historians. It made me wonder about the current paradigms circulated about our peers."
"And why are you here?" Erin asked.
"The HAGS archive contains many of its former members' journals. It is an unparalleled primary resource for my dissertation," the ghost replied.
"It seems like it would be," Erin murmured in response, until a thought came to her. "Wait. You are a ghost. How are you enrolled in a PhD program?"
"My great-grandnieces are quite influential and wealthy," the ghost said, with a small bit of proud embarrassment. "They arranged it though their alma mater due to both of those realities."
"Wait," Holtzmann suddenly said, putting all of the pieces together. "You are Mim Possible," she declared in delight. "You are the most famous scientist, aviatrix, adventurer, all-around badass ghost anywhere. You are all over Ghost News ALL THE TIME. This is so awesome! Er-bear, we can't bust her. We need to interview her. She could prove or disprove so many of our hypotheses!"
"Holtzy," Erin started to protest, but the excited look on Holtzmann's face did her in. "You're right," she admitted. "We can't bust her."
Mim's eyebrows went up at their interaction. There was something vaguely romantic going on between them, but she was not quite sure if either of the ladies realized it. "I would be more than happy to arrange an interview with you ladies if you will just give me a few more hours in the archive," she offered, deciding to press on.
"Deal," Holtzmann said instantly, dancing in her happiness. "Please tell me I can be your research assistant," she pleaded. "I'm a huge fan."
"Of course…Holtz, was it?" Mim said with a smile.
"Yes!" Holtzmann celebrated. She pulled out the jack on Mim's forgotten earbuds and pushed play, sending Karen Carpenter's voice soaring around the room. When the ghost and the ghostbuster burst into song, Erin shook her head and went to find Patty and Abby.
PPPPPPPPPPP
"Abby, that ghost has got a camera," Patty said perplexedly, as a raven-haired ghost in a black pants and a white shirt floated around the atrium snapping pictures.
"And it's a digital camera," Abby agreed, noticing how the ghost would frame her shot, take it, and then look at the screen to judge how it had come out.
"That's not a normal ghost," Patty decided.
"No, no it is not," Abby confirmed.
"I feel I must make you two aware that though I am dead, I am not deaf," the ghost informed them, snapping another picture. "I have heard every part of your conversation." The ghostbusters looked up in shock, and with a sigh, Sheila descended. Leaving her camera draped around her neck, she offered her hand. "Sheila Goshen," she stated.
Abby hesitantly reached out and grasped the cold but surprisingly solid hand. "Abby Yates," she said. "And this is my colleague Patty Tolan."
"Pleasure to meet you both," Sheila said politely, shaking Patty's hand. "Now how may I be of assistance? I would think from your uniforms that you are here to remove me, but until my wife has finished her work, that simply won't be possible. She is under a tight deadline for her dissertation, and she must complete her notes. When she is finished, we will be more than happy to leave."
"Um, well, thank you for the information," Patty said with a friendly smile. "Um, what exactly are you doing, though?" she asked.
"Taking photos of the architecture," Sheila answered, grateful that Patty had taken her answer at face value. "A dear friend of ours designed this house. Her work has somewhat faded into obscurity, and it is quite the shame. She was brilliant, and her work deserves to be celebrated, so I am compiling a photographic examination of her work. When Mim decided to come here, it presented the perfect opportunity to get some of my own work done. I hope to have the book published within the year."
"Which architect?" Patty asked, always eager for a historical discussion.
"Elsa Schrader," Sheila replied, knowing that Patty was unlikely to have heard of her.
"The Elsa Schrader that designed the Hudson Street Home for Girls?" Patty asked, curiously. "I love her work. She's got several buildings in New York that are some of my favorites."
A smile spread over Sheila's face. "One and the same," she said in delight. "You know of her?"
"New York history is my specialty, baby," Patty bragged modestly. "But you actually knew her, knew her, right?"
"She designed my house, and after our wives got over their mutual jealousy of one another, she and Anna were two of our closest friends," Sheila said, truly appreciative of Patty's delight.
"Man, we need to talk," Patty said. "I would love to know more about her."
"Well, her wife said they would come to New York to be interviewed; maybe you could talk more then," Erin offered, coming into the room.
"Where's Holtz?" Abby asked.
"Fangirling and being a research assistant," Erin replied. "Oh, and singing very loudly to the Carpenters."
"You two stumbled upon my wife," Sheila observed.
"Yes, we did," Erin confirmed. "And she promised the two of you would leave when she was done, so I don't think we have any busting to do."
"Good. Then that is settled," Sheila declared. "Miss Tolan, would you like to accompany me on a tour while we wait?" Sheila asked Patty.
"Please, ma'am, call me Patty," Patty requested. "And a thousand times, yes."
Sheila smiled. "Very well, Patty; please call me Lil," Sheila answered. "And we should start this tour in the receiving room." Sheila and Patty left the atrium for the front, and Abby and Erin trailed after them, not having much else to do. Mim and Holtz worked steadily, and before long, both tour and research were done. They all reassembled in the archive and said their goodbyes, and Erin could have sworn she heard Mim tell Holtz to "keep trying. Some girls, like me, are completely oblivious", before she and Sheila faded from view.
They walked back out to Leah, who was thanked them profusely for getting rid of the ghosts with no poofs, handed them a rather big check, and then took them back to the airport. Waving goodbye to LA, they flew back to New York and made it back to the firehouse, only to find a note on the table. "Dear ladies," it read. "Today was one of the most enjoyable we have had in a long time. We cannot wait to meet you all again, signed Mim and Sheila."