Disclaimer: All iterations of Ghostbusters and associated characters are the property of Sony. No profit may be made from this work of derivative fiction.

A/N: This is the 'cold open' for a longer Ghostbusters story I'm working on after seeing Afterlife. It is set approximately 5 years after the film. Oh... and old man Smithers is portrayed in my head by Richard Dean Anderson... ;)

Distant lightning backlit dark clouds sweeping over the unending grain fields of central Oklahoma. Along the dark, lonely stretch of two-lane road flashing red emergency lights, immediately followed by piercing high-beam headlights crested one of the myriad of undulating hills. The squeal of brakes and the screech of tires erupted from the white painted, late 80's four-wheel drive Suburban as the vehicle fishtailed through a ninety degree turn onto an intersecting dirt track. Its trailing dust cloud slowly settling to reveal an old, beat-to-hell mailbox with the name painted on the side.

Smithers.

More lightning outlined a veritable mountain of esoteric gear, and enough antennae to make a Navy cruiser jealous, mounted atop the vehicle's roof as dust and gravel boiled out behind. Inside, the four occupants focused on their mission. Twenty-two year old Lucky behind the wheel, her twenty year-old boyfriend Trevor beside her in the front seat. In back, seventeen year old Phoebe was strapped into a rear-facing seat as her classmate and friend Podcast sat at a console built into the opposite side of the truck.

"Psychokinetic energy traces rising," the young Asian man announced.

"So not another goose-egg run," Trevor said with a sideways grin at the girl beside him. "Still wish you'd let me drive."

"Dad still says no until you pass his driving course." Lucky focused on navigating the rough driveway at speeds seemingly more appropriate for jet aircraft... military jet aircraft.

Phoebe, she just sat stoically staring out the rear window at the dust cloud illuminated by ECT0's red emergency lights.

Once more the squeal of abused brakes cried out, this time accompanied by the crunching rumble of rubber tires locked up on gravel. The truck sliding to a stop in front of a weathered old farmhouse. The building exterior illuminated by a single, blue-white mercury-vapor lamp on a pole standing by a vehicle shed. The red lights giving a malevolent flash to the glass of the pitch black second story windows staring down at the dust-shrouded conveyance.

"We're here," Lucky stated.

Trevor bolted from his seat, running to the rear to whip open the back doors. Lucky joining him in sliding out the equipment tray and hoisting her pack. Podcast opened his door and stood on the lip. A portable PKE meter held out in his hand, blipping slowly, its arms swept back for the moment.

Unbelting herself, Phoebe stepped out of the truck, taking a second to push her round-rimmed glasses back up her nose. She took a deep breath and with a purposeful trudge, moved to the back of the vehicle to pick up her own pack.

The slam of a wooden screen door being forcefully opened all the way against the white, chipped, clapboard wall of the house drew the four young adult's attention. A powerfully built old man with iron grey hair, a limp and a double barrel shotgun broken across his right elbow stepped through and moved forward. At the edge of the porch he paused, taking in the sight of the team.

Eyes closing, he shook his head in gruff disapproval before then focusing hard on each of them in turn. "Fred... Velma... Daphne... Shaggy..."

He looked sharply at the truck they had piled out of.

His voice dripping disappointment, Old Man Smithers drawled.

"Where's the dog?"

A/Endnote: I'm probably not the only one drawing this comparison... and while it has only been a week and a half, I'm probably not the first out the gate with it either. ;) The longer story will be more of a coming of age/who am I story around Phoebe heading off to college. When I'm ready to start posting it, I'll either change the title of this to 'Ghostbusters: Legacy' or repost this segment as the first chapter of a new story under that title.

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