Bell, Book, and Candle
Summary: Ring the bell. Close the book. Quench the candle. Time to show this prehistoric bitch how we do things downtown. An AU telling of the 1984 Ghostbusters film. Peter/Dana, Egon/Janine, Ray/OFC, Winston/OFC. Warnings: Gratuitous footnote abuse, swearing, sexual content in thought, word, and deed.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Ghostbusters; else Ghostbusters II would have been *WAY* different.
My sincere thanks to all of you who continue to read, comment, etc. on this story. It really warms my heart to know that people are enjoying my wild idea and near obsession with this ship and movie. Ya'll are truly amazing.
IX
The subway was screeching. The subway always screeched. Dana had learned to not acknowledge it. She had also learned how to ignore her fellow passengers.1 After years in the city she had learned its ways. No eye contact; no small talk; walk on the right, stand on the left. Beside her a little boy tugged at his mother's skirt.
"Mama, why's it screaming?"
"That's the sound of the wheels on the track." She said in a soothing voice, carding her hand through his blonde hair.
Once upon a time that would have been the answer Dana would have given. Now she wasn't so sure. Now there was little she was sure of. Especially when it came to shrieks, screeching, screaming, eyes watching her in the dark. It had been months since her refrigerator fright and ever since she felt like she was living Gaslight.2 Except Dr. Venkman didn't find anything. At the time she hadn't wondered if it wasn't all a fraud – the entire "Ghostbusters" thing to asinine to be real. Then she heard about the Sedgwick and she saw the newspapers. The Ghostbusters could catch Ghosts when there were ghosts to catch. Her apartment wasn't haunted – she was. Her grip on reality had crossed over.
Dana took a deep, calming breath to stop her swirling thoughts and chocked. The car was humid and reeked of sweat and bodies. The summer heat made it thick enough to roll on the pallet. It was the only thing she had to chew on since her morning muesli.3 Louis had been particularly hard to shake, holding the elevator door open for five minutes because he saw her approach from across the street. He was planning a party and wanted her opinion on absolutely every detail. The entire elevator ride he'd pontificated on oysters versus caviar. Louis had managed to block her from her own door just talking until she'd summoned every year she'd spent in the city and rudely brushed past him and shut the door in this face.
She'd had had enough time to drop her cello off, go to the bathroom, apply fresh deodorant and lipstick, and then grab her work tote before rushing out the door again and to the train. Thank God for the clusterfuck the trains had been the last two weeks. Their consistent lateness was the only way she would have caught a car.
The car was only half full and she was grateful for a seat. She was in the middle of restoring a Bierstadt, which had her up a ladder most of her shift.4 Amelia had raved about how killer her calves looked recently, but the steps were murder on her feet. She wondered why she even kept her job as an art restorer. The orchestra paid well and with Aunt Margery's lease her rent was at 1920s rates. It was a lot of hustle to go from individual practice early in the morning, to rehearsal with the full orchestra, to running home to turn around and go to Bowling Green, to run back to make evening rehearsal and ensemble practice. Other than aerobics twice a week and the occasional wine or whiskey with Andre, Aiden, and Amelia she worked.
Dana watched as the other and little boy alighted the car, the young woman carrying her child on the hip as she navigated the crowd. When I come home from work at night I go home to nothing, all I have is my job and I look around this apartment, I see you and I think to myself "my God, here's someone with the same problem I have" Dr. Venkman's voice came to her, unbid, as the train began moving again. He had quite the habit of appearing in her thoughts when he shouldn't. She had thought of him as Louis monologued, drawing comparison between the two men without realizing she'd been doing it. In the time she'd known Louis he'd never asked about her job – aside from tax related questions. Yes, the cello case was distinctive and self-explanatory, but still. She'd never discussed her interiority with her neighbor, not even a little. Whereas with Venkman, that was all he wanted to hear about – her background, her interests, her work and hobbies. Yes, he'd tried to use it to his advantage at times, but there were moments in their first meeting when he had been sincerely attentive. He'd listened.
Dana shook herself. Enough of that. She was acting as mopey as the lion in the Bronx Zoo. For the rest of the train ride she focused on other things – like if she could get a snack somewhere before work. Art restoration hangry was hazardous to canvases.
Outside the Subway Dana found a food cart and in two minutes had bought a hot dog with the works and devoured it in three bites, earning herself some raised eyebrows from passing businessmen. Finally fed, Dana rounded the Manhattan Museum of Art and Antiquity, eschewing the grand front entrance for a side door requiring keycard access. After the extreme seasonal heat of late summer, the office and archives of the museum were almost unbearably cold. She shivered as she walked down the hall and dug in her large purse for the light cardigan she kept in its depths. The Museum was grand in the way only turn of the century buildings could be, the offices were only a step more personable than a hospital for the most part. The renovations of the 1960s had not been kind to most of the original features.
Realistically Dana could have paused and chewed her hot dog, Judith was a kind woman and a decent boss. She was empathetic to the mess the subway lines were currently. Moreover, she was also in hot pursuit of Leo Pellerito.5 The dark-haired exhibition instillation technician taking all of her attention as Dana arrived. She didn't have the heart to tell her colleague that no matter how much leg she showed sitting on top of her desk in a mini skirt, Leo would never be interested.
"Hi Dana!" Leo greeted her brightly. He really was a sweet guy, a touch of Boston in his voice due to a childhood in Stoneham. The lack of Rs in his words reminded her of home.
"Oh, you're here." She had been noticed.
"I am, no thanks to the 7th Avenue line."6
"We were just discussing this morning's announcement. Dr. Chase will be retiring at the end of this year." Ronald Chase was the head of the Restoration department, Judith's mentor and direct supervisor.
"Any word on a replacement?" Chase was a nice man but was nigh seventy and looked significantly older.
"Nothing on the rumor mill yet," Leo shrugged. "I had no idea he was even thinking of retiring until this morning."
"The instillations department is so isolated. Maybe you should spend more time over here with us." Judith batted her eyelashes as Dana rolled her eyes.
"I actually need to be over in Egyptology. Dr. Martin is overseeing the new exhibition and you know how she can be.7 I better go make sure the interns haven't fucked anything up. I'll see you later."
"I hate to see him leave but I love to watch him go." Judith murmured, watching the man leave with a predatory gleam.
"One of these days you're going to get in trouble, he's a person not a slab of beef."
"Still tasty." She shrugged. "Ready for more quality time in the Hudson River school?"
The afternoon passed quickly, Top 40 counterpoint to the mid-19th century landscape, occasionally punctuated with Judith's play-by-play of her latest attempt to gain Leo's attention.
"Do you think he checked out my legs?"
"Probably? They look nice."
"Isn't Dr. Martin so demanding and difficult?"
"She's also a world-renowned Egyptologist, I think it goes with the territory."
"Leo gets so tan in the summers, he says it's from drinking on patios – I love dining al fresco."
"It must be nice to tan, I just burn."
Judith really was a highly qualified art restorer and archivist. She was well respected in the field and extremely competent and confident – if you talked to her about art. Chase had made her his protégée because of these skills, if anyone should be made the Head of the Department it should be Judith. In addition to all of this Judith was perpetually boy crazy. Her professional success vastly out shown any personal life she might have. Judith was also one of those people who did not like being single, not even for a second, which was something Dana never understood.
After work Dana was back on the train, this time bound for the Upper East Side and a new bar Aiden wanted to try. Tequila Mockingbird was full on a Friday evening after work but not over crowded, it only took Dana a moment to locate her friends, seated at a round booth in the corner, near the one TV not showing the Yankees - Twins game. Dana greeted Andre, Aiden, and Amelia with half hugs and cheek kisses before asking if it was bar only or table service.
"Table, ostensibly, but it's dreadfully slow." Andre warned, swirling a glass of red wine in an unimpressed manner.
Dana ordered herself a Mint Julip from the bar. Aiden and Amelia were a longtime couple, Amelia was first chair Bassoon and Aiden was the Orchestra's music librarian. Because of their relationship, and of course the semi-regular sexual intercourse between herself and Andre, it was basically like double dating. Except Dana never really thought of the violinist as her partner. He never referred to her as his girlfriend, except one time when he'd introduced her at a donor's party as his date (she'd been left to awkwardly explain she was also a cellist in the Symphony).
A strong Julip in hand Dana settled back in the booth. The bar was nice with original wood, exposed brick and a gorgeous tin ceiling. It was also relatively quiet, the occasional baseball reaction aside and A Love Supreme playing in the background. Conversation was easy to have, which was important. Judith had drug her to a bar last Friday and she'd lost her voice screaming to order an overpriced drink with a suggestive name.8
Dana observed the bar, only half listening to the argument Andre had started with a haughty attack on Coltrane's unnecessarily complicated album. Aiden, a sometimes-jazz pianist with a quintet every other Friday would not allow such slander to stand.9 Dana, while one of the unconverted, still could not take Andre's critique seriously when he accused Jazz (the entire genre!) of resting on its laurels – rich coming from a classical violinist. Rather than enter the fray Dana contented herself with the bar. The handsome bartender, the successful dates, the unsuccessful dates, the closed captioning on the one not Baseball TV.
Dana sat up slightly. Being interviewed was one of the Ghostbusters. Not Venkman, but a colleague – Spengler! There was no sound, so she couldn't hear his deep voice but the white letters over black bars reported his words. It was obviously toward the end of the interview, given the question the host asked: Could the "proton packs" do anything to Superman? Spengler adjusted in his seat, thoughtfully, giving this question about his work as much consideration as the more formal ones about the existence of ghosts or the technology he had patented. He was not wearing the lab coat like when she had first met him, nor the grey jumpsuit cameras had captured them all wearing during their "busts", but rather a suit and a nice tie embroidered with an Edwardian pattern of vines.
SPENGLER: ON EARTH? NO. BUT ON KRYPTON WE COULD SLICE HIM UP LIKE BOLOGNA.
GRIMSBY: THANK YOU DR. SPENGLER. THAT WAS EGON SPENGLER, ONE OF THE "GHOSTBUSTERS", A GROUP OF PARANORMAL INVESTIGATORS WHO HAVE INSPIRED BOTH CONTROVERSY AS WELL AS A FLOOD OF HITHERTO UNDISCUSSED SUPERNATURAL ENCOUNTERS.
"Ghosts, seriously? What has journalism stooped to. There is no such thing." Andre sipped his wine authoritatively.
"You don't believe in ghosts?"
"You do?" His expression spoke volumes – mainly that he was rapidly losing respect for her. Even Aiden and Amelia were skeptical. Backpedal. Backpedal.
"I live alone. There are bumps in the night and at 3am a Ghost seems about right." Amelia and Aiden laughed, even Andre chuckled before returning to the rant at hand.
"That's different. You don't support these idiots taking advantage of the foolish." Dana sunk a little in booth. The Ghostbusters were currently researching "Zuul" for her still for like $20 an hour. Also, he might be many things, but Dana was confident in saying Egon Spengler was not stupid. Furthermore, he'd been very nice as he'd… wired her into a metal colander to read her brainwaves…Yeah, she was definitely without a grip on reality.
Dana made it back to her apartment without running into Louis, mercifully. Drinks had been awkward the rest of the evening, even after conversation had drifted from ghosts and Ghostbusters. Feeling foolish Dana nonetheless tiptoed across her kitchen to the refrigerator. It was humming rather than chanting. Taking a deep breath, she threw open the door.
Nothing.
Noting but a yellow glow over a half gallon of milk and some eggs. She slept at home now but was still leery of storing much food in the fridge. She didn't know why – did she expect it to get possessed? Destroyed? Was she afraid she was feeding those hellhound-looking things? In whatever case, she wasn't really eating anything that required refrigeration. Satisfied her fridge was not out to get her Dana performed her nightly ablutions and went to bed.
X
"The stained glass is a nice touch." Ray observed, nodding toward the rose shaped window. It was late at night and pitch black out or else it would have cast brilliant ribbons of blues and purples over the antique wood floors and exposed brick of the restaurant.
"The duck comes highly recommended." Peter agreed. The trapping of a malevolent Class IV semi-corporal entity at the landmark Carriage House restaurant was several days in the making.10 The restaurant probably wouldn't have called them at all, worried about what having a ghost would do to their reputation, if the spirit hadn't pushed the pastry chef down the stairs. Clarissa Elwood was part of the Carriage House's prestige and had shattered her hand in the fall. She was the one who had called the Ghostbusters. Then there was the research faze, trying to figure out who or what the entity was and what it wanted with the mortal plane. That had taken about a week in the archives.
The Carriage House was at one time an actual carriage house, belonging to the Beckwith family, some of the most famous New York Loyalists during the Revolution. Once the new government was established and the Beckwiths exiled themselves to England the estate and carriage house passed through several wealthy New York families, remaining a carriage house until it became a garage until it was restored to its older appearance and turned into a Michelin star restaurant. During the late eighteenth century, early nineteenth century the Miranda family owned the estate, according to Spengler's research the most likely candidate for the ghost was the family's youngest daughter, Theodosia Miranda. Theodosia died dramatically in 1813, committing suicide by self-immolation after murdering her eldest sister Angelica and her brother-in-law Thomas Atherton in a jealous rage. Theodosia had a reputation for jealousy even before attempting to seduce her brother-in-law, budging him until he was nearly unrecognizable with a pair of farrier's nippers, pushing her sister down the stairs after she discovered the body (she died of a broken neck), and eventually dousing herself in the oil from the lamp when she was discovered and dying in a shrieking blaze. She had, when just a teenager, attempted to drown Euphrasie Richards in the East River for "stealing" the attention of a young man she fancied.11
Once they had identified who the Class IV specter was the next problem was arranging a time to remove her. The restaurant refused to let the Busters anywhere near the restaurant during business hours, which meant Peter and Ray had to wait until Sunday night after dinner to work. The Carriage House had also demanded assurance that the original, stately details of the place would not be damaged in anyway. Although through repeated usage they had vastly improved their aim the Ghostbusters had limited confidence in such a guarantee.
In exchange for such accommodations Peter had demanded free three course dinners, complete with all alcohol for each of the Ghostbusters, good for up to one year after the bust. Chef Elwood had personally come through with that end of the bargain, the leverage of an award-winning chef was handy in negotiations. They had also gotten the keys to the Restaurant, so they could bust the ghost without someone in the way of the proceedings, when the manager returned with the check the next morning they'd get the keys back.
"According to Spengler's notes the entity is seen either on the stairs or by the bar." Ray said, beginning to move the tables away from the large, polished oak bar. In the car they had strategized a stationary trap and luring/ corralling the ghost to the box, hopefully minimizing damages by moving obstacles ahead of time.
"Reports say that it does NOT like women – She was an incredibly jealous woman in life and that has only grown in death."
"I left the wig in the car Francine." Peter quipped.
"Fire is also an important part of the recent sightings, if the person isn't standing on the stairs."
"How does any of this help us?"
"I'm thinking out loud, we could light some candles and see if that helps, maybe near the stairs. Or we wait and see if Theodosia comes and investigates." Ray shrugged.
"Fuck that, I'm having a drink." Peter headed behind the bar.
"Pace yourself, this place strikes me as the type that knows how full its bottles are." Venkman waved him off and set up two rocks glasses.
"Ever been here before?"
"Pressed my nose against the windows a few times, wistfully but we've never made the kind of money necessary to actually eat here."
"Correction," Peter poured a thick three fingers of top shelf bourbon into each glass. "Columbia didn't pay us enough to eat here. According to Spegs we're getting in the black on our loans and since we're getting great press lately I think you'll find our fortunes have changed. Cheers." Pete handed Ray a glass and then clinked rims.
"If we branch out some we might even become downright rich! Think of the branding and marketing opportunities – Official Ghostbusters flashlights and walkie talkies. If we had our own cartoon the possibilities are endless!" Ray recognized the scheming gleam in his friend's eyes.
"A cartoon?"
"Yeah! Saturday morning! "The Adventures of the Ghostbusters" or something – we'd get action figures, a theme song, Lorenzo Music doing the voice work, etc. etc."12 Ray rolled his eyes.
"Why don't we focus on the real Ghostbusting for a moment, Pete, we've got a full schedule until at least Thursday and three more TV interviews, plus research on several Class IV and V cases."
"You were the one worried about losing your parents' house. I'm just diversifying our portfolio." Peter guilted, examining himself in the mirror behind the bar. "You'd make a good cartoon character." He looked up at Ray. Uncertain if that was a dig or not Ray chose to ignore it and instead wondered the room.
"This really is a gorgeous place. I can see why it's voted New York's most romantic restaurant."
"Which is why I negotiated for meals instead of our usual storage fee. I was thinking of bringing Ms. Barrett here to discuss her case." Ray shot him a skeptical look over his drink, "by the way, where are we on that?"
"Where are we on that?! Pete, you're the one who went to the archives last!"
"Yeah, picked up a packet of stuff Egon requested and disappointed the cute blonde archivist who thought you were the Ghostbuster coming for the copies."
"You saw Cosette?" Ray blurted and then silently cursed himself. Peter gave him the eye.
"She tall and blonde? Ray, you sly thing." He made no reply. Peter continued. "Yeah, she came bounding out of the office when her colleague said a Ghostbuster was there to pick up some files. Face fell like a lead balloon when she saw me. I almost took it personally. Now I get it."
"Ms. Richards was a student of mine. She took my first ever Supernatural Studies lecture."
"You either saved her GPA or she's a little Van Halen."
"Heh?"
"Hot for teacher." Ray glared. Peter raised his hands, "I'm just saying."
"Egon and I want to take a closer look at the blueprints of Ms. Barrett's building." Ray resolutely ignored Peter's joke – on the outside. Inwardly he was conflicted. She had been his student! She was at least five to seven years younger than he was. She would not appreciate such advances. Cosette Richards was a warm and personable person, nothing more. She was also a professional and he would endeavor to treat her as such in the archives. He would not entertain such suggestions like Peter was making. On the other hand, she was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Unbid memories of her flooded him, the most vivid of which hitting him so strongly he could smell the rain.
It was the first warm rain of the spring. Although he had offered her his umbrella she had refused it, hanging her satchel across her body before zipping up her yellow rain jacket and following beside him in the heavy rain. Passionately she defended her point, paying absolutely no attention to the heavy rain beating down own them both. She fairly crackled with energy as she spoke, eyes sparkling, hands waving. It made the hair on his arms stand up like a lightning strike. She was mad – mad at him specifically – laying into his intimation that any preternatural being was dangerous and inhuman.
Despite being soaked to the skin she managed to become even more striking than even when she was dry. She seemed taller, her eyes brighter, voice richer. She was absolutely magnetic. On the steps of Weaver, he'd asked her if she wanted to continue their discussion in his office. He had meant it with the utmost professionalism – they had often met in office hours and next to a downpour the basement was more comfortable.
It was the first time the statement didn't feel professional. The flush to her cheeks told him she felt it too – the current running between them. The palpable pull. He wanted to kiss her like he wanted his next breath.
"Dr. Stantz…" She breathed. His title from her lips shocked him to his core and he recoiled. He had almost kissed her! His student! It was a violation of both teaching ethics and basic dignity.
She looked so sad and he only felt worse – sick even. She left him for her next class on the steps of Weaver, soaked by rain, a hole in his gut and his heart, horrified with himself.
"So, her blueprints? That's it? She's paying us $20 an hour for that? What about the what's it Spirit Guide?" Peter jerked him back to reality, before responding however the lights flickered.
"THAT BITCH!" An enraged female spirit manifested, charging toward him much faster than her early 19th century dress would have allowed her in real life. Her face was twisted with rage and she looked as if she was ready to rip Ray's eyes out of his sockets.
Surprisingly, Peter was quick on the draw and cut her assault off with a stream of protons. No longer stunned Ray was able to add his own beam and together they got the shrieking apparition of Theodosia Miranda in the trap.
"She was even more annoyed that you haven't been researching enough." Peter joked as he picked up the smoking trap.
"Spengler noted consistent jealous tendencies since the eighteenth century. Perhaps she hates mentions of women as much as actual women." Ray theorized. Maybe she read his mind…
"If that's the case who was she jealous of? Dana Barrett or …Cosette?" Peter waggled his eyebrows.
"Just stop."
"You know which of us should really use their free dinner?" Peter asked locking up.
"Who?"
"Egon."
"With Janine as his date?"
"You've noticed it too?!" Peter was never wrong about sexual tension (it was a gift) but it was nice to have his observations confirmed.
"I've suspected. He gets this look on his face sometimes when he looks at her…"
"He was so jealous when she was giving you all that attention after that Poltergeist smashed your face in." Ray rubbed his nose at the memory.
"He was?" Peter gave him a look.
"Oh yeah. The whole thing with your heterochromia? That's Egon practically seething."
"Huh."
"Mark my words, Ray, Mark. My. Words."
1 gunmetalblxck, "New York City Gothic", Tumblr.
2 Gaslight is a film from 1944. One of the classic psychological thrillers.
3 Muesli is the German word for cereal, which is occasionally used by English speakers – also for cereal.
4 Albert Bierstadt, a mid-19th century landscape painter, part of the Hudson River School of art, a luminist, and a romantic. His paintings are striking for their dynamic use of light and in some cases their massive size. There's one in the Smithsonian Gallery of Art in DC that's floor to ceiling.
5 Yes, Janine's Leo. I've fancast him as a sort of Mario Cantone from the early 2000s. He is from the Boston area, hence the voice description.
6 Having only been to New York City in my mind, I am not entirely sure if this is how one actually talks about the specific routes, but Wikipedia suggested it was.
7 Dr. Layla Martin will eventually be a reoccurring character. Keep an eye on her.
8 Like Gin & Titties instead of a regular G&T.
9 One, fuck you Andre, Jazz is awesome. Two, Aiden plays with Noelle's band. It's a small world after all.
10 The Carriage House is based on a real NYC restaurant, One if By Land, Two if By Sea which is also reported to be haunted. One if By Land used to be the Carriage House of Aaron Burr and one of the several ghosts that apparently haunts it is his daughter Theodosia. Unlike Theodosia Miranda in this story however, Theodosia Burr died at Sea during the War of 1812. She is not a murderous woman – none of the reported entities are. Though apparently, one who remains by the bar likes stealing women's earrings. One if By Land is consistently voted one of the most romantic restaurants in New York/the world.
11 Euphrasie is the French version of the Greek name Euphrasia, meaning Good Cheer. It is the name Fantine gives her daughter in Les Misérables. If you didn't know that it's because she's referred to as Cosette consistently throughout the musical. I should note that when Euphrasie Richards was thrown in the River by Theodosia Miranda she proved to be a remarkable swimmer and despite her ordeal appeared even more radiant when she was wet than before she was tossed overboard.
12 Lorenzo Music was the original voice of Peter Venkman on the Real Ghostbusters, he was also the voice of the Garfield cartoon. He will ALWAYS be the cartoon voice of Peter Venkman, I don't care if they bring in Uncle Joey from Full House. Accept no substitutions.