It wasn't very hard to find. The old firehouse with "Hook & Ladder #8" chiseled on it was across town from her Roxie apartment, and it had cost her a small fortune in cab fees just to get here.

Even if she wasn't sure by the address she got out of the phone book, the ghost logo on the sign out front was unmistakable. If she hadn't had to meet her lieutenant that morning to finalize the plans for the raid, she'd have been there earlier.

And, if she had a choice, she wouldn't have been wearing a leopard-print short skirt with a just-as tacky tight top, either. But, even a stripper was expected to dress like one while not at work. Her normal slouchy jeans and T-shirt would never do. Thankfully, her lieutenant and the others on the task force were professional enough not to comment.

She wasn't so sure about these Ghostbusters. But, at this point, she was so angry, she was liable to go bonkers on anyone who crossed her path.

Sure, Ray meant well, but this was crazy. He was crazy! Who does that sort of thing for someone he barely knows, anyway?

Taking a deep breath, she crossed the road against traffic, ignoring a wolf whistle from a passing cab driver. Yanking open the heavy door, she stomped inside, ready to do battle.

She blinked a moment, taking in her surroundings. The car from the night at the club with all the ghostbusting trappings was backed inside. As strange as it looked, it shined like a new penny.

She couldn't say that for the remainder of the place. Definitely a bunch of guys lived here. Dusty, papers stacked everywhere, all sorts of tools imaginable piled in a precarious stack nearby. . .

"Can I help you?" a Brooklyn-accent asked, sounding more bored than anything.

Helen followed the sound of her voice. The only neat spot in the room. A woman with red hair and clothing almost as wild as hers sat behind the tidy desk, watching her curiously.

"I need to see . . ."

"Dr. Venkman's not in right now."

Helen blinked for a moment.

Oh, right. The cocky one. Probably had girls lined up around the block to giggle at his every word.

Helen's eyes narrowed as her anger ratcheted up anther notch. Like she had something better to do than follow this Venkman around! "I'm here to see Ray Stantz." Her voice was as even as she could manage, but the closer she got to ringing his neck, the harder it was for her to control it.

The secretary looked momentarily surprised and raised an eyebrow. "Uh . . . Dr. Stantz isn't here, either. But, I will gladly take a message, and he can . . . call you back."

Helen stepped close enough to her desk to read the nameplate. Janine Melnitz.

Helen knew she couldn't risk a return trip.

"I'll wait, Janine."

Janine stood, her eyes narrowing. "They could be awhile. And, it's Ms. Melnitz."

Okaaaay . . . Helen couldn't imagine what exactly was Ms. Melnitz's problem, but she had known a few prickly secretaries in her time. Obviously, this was her turf, and no one else was going to come in and tell her what to do.

That was fine with Helen. All she wanted was to find Ray and tear him a new one.

Plus, Helen figured Ray was there somewhere. After all, the crazy car was still here, wasn't it? And she distinctly heard what she would have sworn was a 'Captain America' cartoon playing somewhere upstairs. Janine was just doing her job, keeping the crazies at bay.

But, Helen had no patience for it. Not today.

"Raymond Frances Stantz, get down here right now!" Helen practically bellowed at the top of her lungs. It echoed in the cavernous room. Clattering and clanking from upstairs, almost sounding like someone had dropped something large and metal.

And, suddenly, she didn't hear the television anymore.

Janine looked shocked, then pissed as she came out from behind the back of her desk, meeting Helen toe-to-toe. "Excuse me, but you have no right to barge your skinny ass in here and demand to see anyone . . ."

Helen knew her fight wasn't with Janine, who apparently took protecting her bosses to an art form. But, as the woman stomped in her direction, Helen was ready for a fight. She'd come for one, and if she couldn't fight Ray, she'd sure-as-shootin' fight Ms. Melnitz.


Ray froze as his full name echoed up the stairway into the kitchen.

But, the clanging from the lab – probably Egon dropping something or other – brought him back to his senses.

He knew who it was. And, she was pissed off as hell.

And, what did he expect?

Certainly not for her to show up here.

Quickly shutting off the television, he headed towards the stairway.

If he wasn't just a little apprehensive, he would have laughed aloud at the sight of Janine and Helen standing toe-to-toe, looking quite like they were ready to fight to the death.

But, Peter beat him to it.

"Girls, girls! As much as I like a good cat fight, I need to know exactly who's fighting. For betting purposes and all." He practically galloped down the stairs past Ray, not stopping until he had planted himself in front of Helen.

Not a good idea, Peter . . .

"Who the hell are you?" Helen asked quite rudely, her attention drawn away from Janine.

"You can't talk to Dr. V that way!" Janine started, only to be shushed by Dr. V. himself.

"That's quite alright, Janine. I like a woman with a little fire in her. Dr. Peter Venkman, at your service." He looked like he was about to take her hand and kiss it or some other nonsense like that, so Helen made sure she took a step backwards.

She remembered. The cocky one. Her anger was getting the best of her.

"I don't think I need any of the services you offer, Dr. Venkman," Helen said, trying her best to control her already-frayed temper. "I'm here to see Dr. Stantz. And Dr. Stantz only."

Peter looked surprised. "Really? Ray doesn't usually go for the high-spirited type . . ."

Helen crossed her arms in annoyance. "Just because I dress like a slut, doesn't mean I'm one. Just like, I'm assuming, because you act like an arrogant piece of shit doesn't mean you're one."

"Ooooo, I like you . . .and haven't I seen you before?"

The gall! He wasn't even fazed! Must take insults on a regular basis. "Look here, you dirty, rotten son of a . . ."

"Peter, it's OK."

Helen turned her attention away from the annoying Dr. V.

Ray looked cautious, and he had every right to be.

And, this is exactly what she had wanted to do, since she left Rocco's office last night. Before she realized what she was doing, she marched towards him.

Admirably enough, he didn't back off, although he definitely looked apprehensive. Granted, how threatening could she be in stilettos with fluffy pink purse on her shoulder?

She tried to keep her voice level. "Ray, how could you do that? Because I didn't ask for you to save me from that place!"

He looked wounded, but not because of her words. "He told me he wouldn't tell you it was me."

Helen could've shaken him until his teeth rattled. "You took the word of Rocco? A self-proclaimed braggart who deals in booze, drugs and women on a regular basis and murders for the fun of it?" She shook her head. "You really haven't changed have you, Raymond?"

Ray ran a hand through his hair, clearly befuddled at the situation. "But, wasn't it what you wanted? You hated being on that stage – you told me so! All I did was offer you a way out . . ."

"There's more going on here than you know! You could've jeopardized . . ." Oops, too much. She bit her tongue to keep from finishing that comment. "You're not the savior of all that is wrong with the world!"

Sure, he thought it was a strange idea from the start. But, he wasn't expecting Helen to be this pissed. "I'll just go back and explain to him. Tell him he has to pay the bill."

"Pay what bill?"

Helen and Ray both looked at Peter, both forgetting he was there. And, Peter did not look happy. "What did you do, Ray?"

Ray started to answer, but Helen beat him to it. "Traded the fee for the ghosthunting deal to keep me offstage for two weeks."

Peter looked stunned. "Whose idea was this? Yours?" he asked Helen.

Ray jumped in before Helen could react. "She had nothing to do with it! I swear! It was all my idea! And . . . I don't regret it either." He stuck out his chin defiantly, daring both of them to contradict him.

Peter shook his head in exasperation. "I . . . I don't know what's worse – you keeping someone from paying their bill or keeping this fine specimen off stage."

"My life is none of your business, buster, so keep out!" Helen turned her rage towards Peter, then back to Ray. "As for you, don't you dare go back and talk to Rocco. Just let it go. You've done enough damage. But, as I told you before, stay away from me! And my life! I don't need you running it, and I sure as hell. . . ."

"What about Katie? Do you want to wind up the same way?" He stared at her as if he dared her to contradict him.

She took a step back, almost as if he had hit her, her face suddenly pale. She didn't even know he knew about Katie!

Her expression must have given her away. Ray took a step towards her. Suddenly, all Helen wanted was to get out of there. "Look, Ray, just back off, OK? There's . . . there's more going on there than you know. All you'll do is . . . is make things worse."

"I thought her name was Roxie." Helen turned at the sound of her fake name.

She recognized Zeddemore from the night at the club. And the one with the funny hair was standing right beside him, his expression amused.

Great. Just great.

This was a bad idea, coming here. The best thing to do was cut her losses, leave and learn to deal with her anger in a manageable fashion – like maybe take up papier-mâché or something.

"Her name's Helen Stephenson. She was almost my sister-in-law," Ray's quiet voice startled her, and she whirled back around. Ray looked like he thought she might hit him.

She probably should, dammit!

"Yeah, Carl was always a grade-A ass hole," Helen retorted, surprising even herself.

Wait a minute.

Didn't she come here to tell Ray where to shove his do-good attitude? And now, look at her . . . reminiscing like old friends!

This was crazy! Insane! Certifiable!

Maybe when all this business was over, she should check herself into a mental institution. She'd heard Bellvue was nice this time of year.

She met Ray's eyes, once again touched at the concern she saw there.

Why couldn't he be an ass hat like his brother? This would make this a whole lot easier!

Helen took a deep breath. "Look, Ray, for the last time, just stay away. No more visits with Rocco. No more visits with me." She paused. "I'll be fine in a day or two. I swear. Don't make things more difficult for me than they already are, OK?"

Ray nodded hesitantly. "Fine. No more visits."

Helen knew Ray. Once he got an idea in his mind . . ."Or phone calls. Or letters. Don't even send out a smoke signal!"

Morosely, he nodded again.

Helen whirled around and click-clacked across the concrete floor, shoving open the old door so hard in her anger, it slammed against the outside wall with a bang.

It took her ten blocks to cool off enough to realize she was going the wrong way.


Egon was the first one to speak.

"Raymond, you never cease to amaze me."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, Egon."

Egon shook his head and returned to his lab, thoughts already skipping ahead.

Janine wasn't so forgiving. "Ray, if she shows up here again, I will not be responsible for my actions." The ringing of the phone interrupted her diatribe, and she stomped towards it in response.

"Yeah, Ray, she's clearly not your type," Peter added.

"But . . . no one ever said I wanted her to be my type!" Ray argued. What a mess. Of course, what did he expect? If he didn't stop to think something through, this was a common occurrence. "And, she's not like that. I swear."

Winston through an arm around Ray's shoulder. "People change Ray."

"Yeah, well . . . not that much," Ray muttered.

"Not everyone can be as consistent as you in the 'never change' department," Peter said affably. "If we can count on you for anything, it's never changing."

"Ray, it's for you," Janine said, holding the phone out for him impatiently.

Glad to change the subject, Ray took the receiver from her.

But, the subject wasn't exactly changed. "She's a police officer with the NYPD!" Aunt Lois said proudly, not even bothering to introduce herself.

Ray struggled to keep up with her train of thought. "Who . . ."

"Helen! I just remembered because her mother showed me pictures of her graduation day from the academy awhile ago. She looked mighty solemn, if I remember correctly, nothing like the sweet child I remember . . ."

Ray didn't listen to much else as his mind churned.

A police officer? How did she go from a police officer to . . . ?

He almost dropped the receiver.

No wonder she was angry!

Or was that just his overactive mind going wild on him.

Ray didn't even realize Aunt Lois had asked him a question. "What . . . oh, sorry, Aunt Lois . . ."

"I asked you if maybe it was Helen you ran into. After all, she is there in New York?"

"Uh . . . probably not. This girl . . .wasn't a cop." No use in getting himself – or Helen – in any deeper trouble than she was already in.

After he hung up the phone, it hit him.

If it really was an undercover sting, then he really could have messed it up. Royally.

His first instinct was to find her and tell her he knew. Tell her he was sorry. Sorry for thinking she was a prostitute and sorry for butting in.

Sorry for almost getting her killed?

Would that have happened if they found her out?

His stomach sank to his toes. Dangerous. Really dangerous.

Well, sure, idiot. Rocco may have seemed polite on the outside, but he was still evil on the inside.

"Ray, man, you OK?" Winston asked.

Ray shook himself, figuring he looked as pale as he felt. "Oh . . . nothing. Just . . .I was just thinking."

"Must be serious stuff. Hey, will you hand me that crescent wrench over there?" Winston pointed, returning his attention to the engine of Ecto-1.

Automatically, Ray did as he was told.

No, he'd made things bad enough as it were. He needed to stay out. As much as he didn't like it.

But, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had not seen the last of Helen Stephenson – alive or otherwise.


As you probably are already aware, Ray's middle name is only assumed due to a comment in the first movie. - ainttooproudtobeg