The Trouble With Guys

by EGB Fan

A smooth talking teenage boy has just moved in across the street from the Venkmans, but there may be more to him than meets the eye. Could it be anything to do with the recently arrived incubus?

1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Ghostbusters (c) Dan Aykroyd, Harold Ramis and Columbia Pictures

Extreme Ghostbusters: The Trouble With Guys

Part 1

"Can you talk to her for me?"

Janine Spengler exhaled heavily. So that was what it had all been building up to - the wide eyes, the wringing hands, the slight edge in his voice that almost sounded like he was about to burst into tears… And they weren't words anyone wanted to hear from a friend - not even a friend one professed not to like very much. "Talk to her" meant so much more than just talk to her. It meant convince her I'm right without letting on that I had anything to do with it.

"Why can't Dana talk to her?"

Peter Venkman scowled. "She doesn't listen to Dana. All those two ever seem to do these days is bicker - it'd only make things worse."

"So you talk to her."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I would appear to be interfering in her life," said Peter, "and I don't want her to stop thinking I'm wonderful."

"You are interfering in her life," Janine pointed out. "And she'll figure out that you're not wonderful one of these days, you know."

"Stop digressing. Are you saying no?"

"I am saying no."

"It can count as work - I'll pay you overtime."

"No."

"Why?"

"It's none of my business."

Peter's charming smile dropped. "She's thirteen," he said. "And if she gets herself pregnant, I'm holding you personally responsible."

"Dr. Venkman," Janine said patiently. "She isn't stupid enough to get pregnant. How old is this kid anyway?"

"I don't know… fifteen, maybe sixteen…"

"Oh, well, does he know Jessica's only thirteen? Because she looks older, you know. She looks at least fourteen. At least."

"You," said Peter, "are not helping."

"What's his name?"

"Cameron."

"Oh." Janine suddenly took on a faraway look. "I knew a Cameron once. He had the most charming smile I've ever seen before or since."

"You're really not helping."

"And I don't intend to start now," Janine said firmly. "Your daughter is not my responsibility, and I am not getting involved."

She wouldn't be swayed - Peter could see that. He gave up and made his way towards the staircase, rethinking his plan as he walked. He had really been counting on Janine saying yes, but he supposed there was no reason why it had to be Janine. Come to think of it, there weren't too many criteria that had to be fulfilled here. She just had to be woman (the whole "trouble with guys" speech would have so much more credibility coming from a woman, or else Oscar's gay drummer friend Danny, but all four members of their band Mood Slime were in Memphis just then), whom Jessica liked and trusted and might think twice about getting aggressive with.

"Kylie! Just the person I wanted to see."

"Oh yes?" Kylie Griffin, who was currently studying a book about reanimated corpses and their general use in demonology, looked up warily. "Why is that?"

"I got a problem." He sat down heavily next to her, quietly wishing that Kylie was alone in the room. She almost was, but for her colleague Roland Jackson, who probably shouldn't listen to this for certain reasons. "See, there's this woman moved in across my street with her son Cameron."

"Cameron?" echoed Kylie, a smile playing on the corners of her mouth. "I knew a Cameron once. He had all this untamed hair that you just wanted to grab hold of and run your fingers through it. But anyway," she snapped out of it. "What's the problem?"

"The problem," said Peter, "is that Cameron is at least fifteen, he and Jessica seem to 'accidentally' bump into each other about eight times a day and she obviously has the hots for him."

"Oh, for the love of Pete," said Kylie, putting her book down emphatically. "What is it with dads? Why can't they trust their daughters? Why do they assume that every boy she meets will attempt to get in her pants and she won't have the gumption to say no?"

Peter was momentarily stumped.

"Excuse me," Roland cut in. "This Cameron is two years older than Jessica, right?"

"Thereabouts." Here it comes…

"I seem to remember that your son started pestering my little sister for a date when she was fourteen and he was sixteen."

"That was different," said Peter.

"How?"

"By one whole year."

"Oh," said Roland. "So it'll be ok for Jess to start seeing this person next year, will it?"

"Absolutely," Peter said unconvincingly.

Roland threw him a challenging look.

"Well," said Peter, "to be honest, that may not be an issue. Cameron and his mom seem to move around a lot. Apparently they've lived in ten different states."

"Now that," said Kylie, "is weird. It's just the two of them, is it?"

"Yeah. I never thought Jess would go for a momma's boy like him."

"Maybe his mom thought he wouldn't go for a daddy's girl like her. But anyway, they've moved into your street? Your street with all those big flash four-bed terraces?"

"Yes."

"Huh. I like the cheek of that. They ought to swap with us." Kylie was living with a husband, two small daughters (currently with their aunt Beth) and a rapidly ageing cat in a two-bedroom apartment. "But anyway, I'm surprised at you, Peter. I thought you understood teenagers. If you tell Jess she can't see this kid, she's going to be sneaking out at night, climbing a ladder up to his room, snorting his coke and getting herself pregnant with his babies."

"I know," said Peter. "That's why I need you to do it for me."

"Well I'm sorry," said Kylie, not sounding sorry at all, and waving her book in Peter's face; "but I'm busy here. I'm not just reading this for the sheer fun of it. I'm doing some research on incubuses. Or incubi," she added. "No one seems quite sure."

"Why?" asked Peter. "Is there one around?"

"Almost certainly. We've had an unconscious date rape with no trace of drugs and some trace of PK activity. That sure sounds like an incubus to me."

"So how come you're reading about reanimated corpses?"

Kylie looked scandalised. "You're supposed to be a Ghostbuster. Listen. The incubus is a demon with no physical body, so he has to use someone else's to do his thing. Some legends say he just uses the one cadaver to walk around in; others say he manipulates the flesh of a corpse or corpses into a human form, and most of those legends agree that he can appear in the guise of someone his victim knows and wants to get jiggy with."

"Using the flesh of a corpse? That's disgusting," remarked Peter.

"I know," said Kylie, "and it reminds me - you'll want to have a PKE meter at home tonight, because if you decide to try your luck with Dana, she'll need to know it's really you and not the incubus. Not that she can do much if it is the incubus. He'll have a hypnotic effect on her, and he has the power to send everyone else in the household to sleep, including the woman's husband even if he's right there in the bed with them."

Peter stared at her in silence for a few moments. Then he said, "So aren't you going to help me with Jess, then?"

"No," said Kylie. "Jessica's smart. If he's bad news, she'll figure it out for herself."

x x x

"Ooh, there's Cameron! I'll take you too meet him."

Charlene Zeddemore wasn't surprised. It wasn't the first time Jessica had gone stupid over a man. It was the first time she had gone stupid over a boy, though - the last one wasn't a boy by any means. However, while not surprised, Charlene was disappointed. For one thing, she thought Jessica had more self-respect than she was exhibiting right now. And for another, they were supposed to be spending their Saturday afternoon listening to music and bitching about their friends or whatever it was teenagers did. She hadn't expected to have her arm pulled almost out of its socket for the sake of meeting a guy who lived across the street.

"Jess, hi!" Cameron waved them over. Then he turned his blinding, melting, charming, disarming, beguiling, devastating smile on Charlene and added, "Hey there."

"Hey there," echoed Charlene, already deciding to go a little easier on Jessica than she originally planned. She could see it now, she really could, which was odd because she wasn't really interested in boys yet. At least, she didn't think she was. Jessica seemed to be sailing through puberty: noticing the first signs of breast growth at ten, encountering the onset of menstruation at eleven, being wooed by a smooth-talking vampire at twelve, having blazing rows with her mother all the freaking time… Charlene, however, was in no particular rush, and she hadn't really seen boys as anything other than friends before. But now…

Cameron wasn't handsome. He wasn't ugly by any means, but he definitely wasn't handsome. He had nice dark eyes, and that smile that was probably bordering on illegal, but he wasn't handsome. He was something, but it wasn't handsome.

"Hi." Jessica, for all that she was hopelessly in love, didn't seem to be having too much trouble talking to him. She was hardly even blushing. She had confidence by the bucketful, that girl. "You remember I promised to introduce you to a few of my friends? Well, this is Charlene. She's one of my friends."

"Charlene - nice name," Cameron said casually, proffering his right hand. "Hi. I'm Cameron."

"Yeah, I know." His handshake felt kind of nice, actually.

"Cameron doesn't really know anyone yet," Jessica went on. "He just moved here at the beginning of the week from Utah."

"At the beginning of the week from Utah?" Charlene raised her eyebrows. "What about school?"

"Yeah, well - you know that song 'Too Cool for School'?" Cameron grinned endearingly. "But seriously, Mom usually moves us on during the summer, or at least spring break or something, but not this time. I've missed out on like two weeks of the ninth grade, which may have caused irreparable damage - only time will tell - but I'm starting school here next week. My mother actually wanted to home-school me, but I kind of insisted."

Charismatic. That was what he was. And charming. And cute. All of those things. Just not handsome. But, God, who wanted handsome? Handsome guys too often knew they were handsome, and so didn't bother trying to be anything else. They were so rarely charismatic, charming or cute, and never all three.

The cuteness, the charisma and the charm apparently didn't run in the family. Jessica had already figured this out, and Charlene suspected as much when a nervous looking woman appeared in the doorway and said unpleasantly, "Cameron! Get your ass back in here!"

"All right, Mom, in a second," Cameron called over his shoulder.

"Are you photosensitive or something?" Jessica asked bluntly. "How come she never lets you out to talk to me for more than about a minute?"

"Aw, she's probably just afraid you'll deflower me or something," said Cameron, which slightly shocked Charlene. She hardly thought it was appropriate for him to flirt openly with a thirteen year old. "Your dad's the same, you know - every time he sees me I get this touch-my-daughter-if-you-dare look."

"Ugh." Jessica scowled. "I'm gonna kill him."

"He only wants to keep you wrapped in cotton wool because he loves you, Jess."

"Cameron!" Then, seconds later, "Jessica!" came from the other side of the street.

"You'd better go," said Cameron. "I've heard what you and your mom can be like."

Jessica cringed just ever so slightly. "Really?"

"Go on. I'll see you around."

He headed for his front door, and Jessica for hers. Charlene's interest in him seemed to deplete as soon as she turned her back and fell into step beside Jessica. Cameron was just a little too old for either of them anyway. Speaking of which…

"Jess, how old does he think you are?"

"I don't know."

"Ah-ha. And how old is he?"

"I'm almost sure he's fifteen."

"He looks more like sixteen to me."

"Oh, who are you - Jiminy Cricket?" retorted Jessica. "My last boyfriend was two hundred and twenty-five, if you recall."

"Yeah, and talk about bad news," said Charlene.

"Well, he was a vampire."

"And what's Cameron? Some kind of fugitive? He just travelled several thousand miles in the middle of the school year, and his mother doesn't even like him standing in his own front yard - it's almost like she's hiding him from something."

"Yeah, well." Jessica gave a small shrug. "She's just weird."

x x x

Eduardo Rivera had been romantically fused to Kylie for some time, and he had learnt early in their relationship that she hated him to be possessive. That was why he couldn't tell her exactly what he was feeling right now, which was, frankly, torn. He was feeling torn because he didn't like the sound of a demon that could "evoke sexual desires in a woman that only the demon itself could satisfy". Part of him wanted to be at Kylie's side twenty-four hours a day so that he could keep an eye on her (he trusted her not to cheat on him intentionally, but this was different), while part of him was relieved that she had been advised by their boss not to come out on this call (oh, how she hated that one).

The call was for missing cadavers, interestingly enough. Unfortunately they were about a week too late. Everyone at the morgue had managed to keep the disturbing incident away from the press, and only decided to call in the Ghostbusters when the police and two completely separate private investigators (hired by bereaved families who believed that their loved ones' bodies were being used for God knew what) failed to turn up even the slightest clue as to what had happened.

"Incubus?" echoed Rachel the mortician. She was being briefed by Egon Spengler as to what he thought had happened, while Garrett Miller and Eduardo hunted around for some shred of a lead. "What's that?"

"Um…" Egon seemed to hesitate.

"Basically it's a sex demon," Garrett jumped in. "The male equivalent of a succubus, only less malevolent in that its intentions are thoughtless and selfish rather than homicidal. In other words, it only wants to get its end away."

"Just like a lot of guys," Rachel said dryly.

"Well," said Egon, "the demon has a draining effect on its victim, and intercourse is potentially fatal. But the first time usually doesn't kill you, and as a general rule there isn't a second time because it likes to move between women as quickly as possible."

"Just like a lot of guys," Rachel said again.

"Egon," said Eduardo. "There's nothing here but a bunch of corpses. Can we go now? This place is giving me the creeps."

"Excuse me," said Rachel. "Is there any danger this 'incubus' might come back?"

"Unlikely," said Egon. "It would have used the cadavers to construct a human body in which to… well, you know. It shouldn't need any more, unless something happens to it."

"What, like if it gets hit by a truck or something?"

"Well. Yes."

x x x

"Please help me," Dana hissed furtively into the phone. "She listens to you. Oh, honey, there you are!" She feigned surprise as Jessica wandered in through the open front door, having just waved off Charlene and her mother. "Would you like to talk to Oscar?"

"Sure," said Jessica, and shrugged, trying to exude an air of indifference. For some reason, unknown even to herself, she wanted to hide just how much she was missing her brother. She took the phone from Dana and said casually, "Hi."

"Hey." Oscar's voice seemed to tug on her heart. Surprisingly so. It was just weird, quite honestly. "How's you?"

"Ok," said Jessica. "How 'bout you? Famous yet?"

"Getting there," said Oscar. "We're warming up for the Chilis on Friday night."

Jessica's eyes widened. "Are you?"

"Yep. I'll get you an autograph."

"Yeah, you'd better."

"So Mom tells me you've found yourself a boyfriend."

Jessica scowled. "What ever gave her that idea?"

"Oh, come on - tell me you don't know I'm talking about."

"I don't know who you're talking about."

"Guy called Cameron? Just moved in across the street?"

"Oh, him," Jessica said airily. "He's not my boyfriend."

"No?"

"No. He's just some guy who… well, who moved in across the street. He doesn't know anyone around here. His mother's insane. I'm just being friendly. You'd have done the same thing if you were here. Speaking of which, when are you coming home?"

The front door opened and Peter walked in. Jessica smiled and waved. Peter smiled back, and dropped a kiss on the top of her head as he walked past.

"I don't know," said Oscar. "Probably Christmas."

"Christmas! It's ages 'til Christmas!"

"A couple of months, that's all. And anyway, so what? I thought you'd enjoy having the bathroom all to yourself. Don't tell me you're missing me."

"Of course not."

"Good. I don't miss you either. We're having a blast out here."

"Dad just got home," said Jessica. "Would you like to talk to him?"

"Yeah, in a sec," said Oscar. "But listen - I want you to be careful with this Cameron person."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Oscar…"

"I mean it. Don't you remember what I told you about guys? Only after one thing? Brains in our boxers? Commonly misinterpret friendliness from females as invitations to ravish them? Remember this?"

"Of course I remember."

"Promise me you'll be careful."

"I'm not stupid."

"Really?" said Oscar, in exaggerated tones. "You've been doing a very good impression of it for the past thirteen years."

"That's so funny I can't even laugh."

"Can I talk to Dad now, please?"

"Sure," said Jessica, her heart sinking slightly. She didn't quite feel ready to stop talking to him yet. "I'll fetch him for you."

"Thanks."

"Bye."

"See ya."

Jessica placed the receiver on the small table where the phone was kept and wandered into the living room, where she had seen her father disappear to. He was in there with Dana, nursing a PKE meter. They were sitting together on the sofa, talking quietly, but they stopped this when Jessica came in.

Her eyes narrowed. "You've been talking about me."

"Actually," said Peter, "we haven't." He handed Dana the PKE meter and said, "Maybe you'd better tell her about this. She might be in danger from it too, come to think of it."

"Oh." Dana pulled a face. "Do you really think so?"

"I don't know… I guess if she was, someone would have warned me. They only seemed concerned about you."

"Dad," said Jessica. "Oscar's on the phone."

"Oh, great." Peter stood up and made for the hallway. "How is he?"

"Good," said Jessica. "He sounds really happy."

Peter left his wife and daughter alone in the room together - an action which, just lately, had often proved unwise. It really seemed that Jessica's relationship with her mother had plummeted since Oscar left. They were all missing him, of course. Peter hoped that things would calm down between them when the gaping wound that was Oscar's absence was not quite so raw.

"Mom," said Jessica. "What did you tell Oscar about Cameron?"

"Nothing," Dana said hastily. She had the PKE meter now, and was turning it over in her hands. "Well, I may have mentioned him."

"What do you think he's going to do to me?"

"I don't know, Jessica. Teenage boys are very unpredictable."

"I thought they were 'only after one thing'."

"Yes, well, many of them are."

"Well I'm not. Don't you trust me?"

"Oh honey, of course I do."

"So why are you so anti-Cameron?"

"Because he's older and bigger than you. It's him I don't trust. Look, honey." Dana put down the PKE meter and assumed an I-know-what-I'm-talking-about expression. "I do understand. I knew a Cameron when I was about your age. He had this way of looking at me when I was talking to him, like I was the only person in the world."

Jessica eyed her suspiciously. "So what's your point?"

"Only that I know how you're feeling. But there's no need to rush. Just slow down a bit. You're only thirteen."

Only thirteen. Jessica knew what she was getting at. Dana had been using phrases like "no need to rush" and "only thirteen" since her younger child had been sat down in front of a sex ed video at school last year (so embarrassing for all of them, poor kids). Prior to this, Jessica always assumed that her mother believed her to be ignorant of such things. She wasn't, though. Oscar had given his impressionable little sister her first dose of sex education when she was four and he nine. Horrified, she had gone straight to her father, seeking reassurance that Oscar was either lying or had misunderstood. Unfortunately Peter only confirmed what she had been told, and even explained it in a little more detail (not much more - just so that it made a bit more sense than what Oscar had said).

Even at age four, Jessica had felt unable to talk to her mother about all that jazz. Dana had been helping her through puberty, true enough, but now… Well, as her mother was so keen to point out, Jessica was only thirteen, and she didn't feel anywhere near ready to try anything more than kissing (she had been kissed twice, by her vampire boyfriend Will, and kind of liked it the second time). But the thought of sex and related activities no longer sickened and repulsed her. Now… well, now she was kind of curious, and full of questions. What was it like, did it hurt, how much, approximately how many times before it felt good, how could one tell when it was the right time and the right guy…?

But, quite honestly, whom could she ask? The first person she usually went to for advice was Peter. But of course she couldn't do that this time, partly because his experiences were entirely male while she was interested in the female perspective, but mostly because it would be excruciatingly embarrassing for both of them. But she couldn't go to Dana either. She really, really couldn't go to Dana, because Dana was likely to give one of two possible responses. She would either be shocked and appalled, tell Jessica that it was dirty and wrong and she must never ever so much as think about that kind of thing before her wedding night (ha! - like she was ever going to have a wedding night) and rush out to buy her a chastity belt (or maybe get one on-line - they were probably hard to come by).

Or else - well, she would answer the questions. And in doing so, she would draw on her own experiences - experiences that Jessica really did not want to hear about. The only people she knew whom her mother had (eww!) slept with were Oscar's biological father - creep, nerdy classical music lover, child-abandoner and general all-round prick (and definitely not of the sexy love-'em-and-leave-'em prick variety); and of course… ok, cancel that thought. It was too disgusting to contemplate. It was, quite frankly, the sickest thing imaginable. Besides which, unfortunately for Jessica, she hadn't quite been able to hold on to the assumption her four-year-old self had made that her mother had only done that (eww, ick) with each of them once (two men, two unthinkable acts, two babies - so obvious, so simple). She still liked to pretend, of course, but the bigger part of her knew that it was probably not true.

"So what were you and Dad talking about?"

"His work," said Dana. "Apparently there's a demon on the loose that likes to seduce people."

Oh God. Jessica had thought she was changing the subject. Did absolutely everything have to come back to sex?

x x x

It was getting on for ten p.m. when Roland parked the Ecto-1, with Garrett in the back, outside Eduardo and Kylie's apartment block. Maybe it was early to start, but then again maybe it wasn't. Who was to say when incubuses/incubi/whatever did their thing? Who was to say they didn't do it at two o'clock in the afternoon? Hey, some of them probably did. But so far, this one had been operating at night.

"What are you doing here?" demanded Garrett, when Kylie got into the car.

"It's best if I go," said Kylie. "Eddie agrees."

"Oh, I get it," said Roland. "You pointed out what might happen if you were left alone in your bed tonight."

"I did," said Kylie, "and I think it would be stupid for me to stay home alone with two sleepy little girls while there's an incubus loose in the city. Don't you?"

Garrett bit his lip. He hadn't thought of that, stupidly, and he had a wife and two-year-old son at home. Max so rarely slept, of course - it might very well take more than incubus magic to tire him out.

"Yes," said Roland. "You're right, of course. Maybe we should have left you both at home and got somebody else to come along."

"Look," Kylie said irritably. "I am perfectly capable of exercising self-control."

"Kylie, you've read about incubi," said Roland. "You know what they can do. There are even reports of them seducing nuns. Why should you be immune?"

"Maybe because I know what to look out for?"

"Yeah," said Garrett. "Eddie. Or at least you have to hope so for the sake of your marriage."

"If I don't see Eduardo," Kylie said tartly, "I shall assume this is the kind of incubus that can't appear in the form of the man I most desire."

"Oh yeah? What if you see Egon or somebody?"

"Don't be so childish, Garrett," Roland said irritably. "Now listen. You remember all that work we did this afternoon." They'd been trawling through the internet and phoning round all the New York newspapers, looking for maybe-rapes that could potentially be incubus incidents. "After you both went home, Egon and I stuck some pins in a map and came up with this." He pulled a hand-drawn map of Manhattan out of the breast pocket of his jumpsuit and showed it to Kylie and Garrett. "Well, it wasn't exactly this, but near enough - and the locations that don't quite fit could easily have not been the incubus."

"Now that," said Kylie, running her eye over the beginnings of a clockwork spiral of dots drawn onto the map, "is very weird. I didn't read anything about that kind of behaviour."

"So what, we think it'll hit the Upper West Side tonight?" asked Garrett, his eye following the spiral to that particular location.

"We certainly do," said Roland, and pulled the car into gear.

There were, unavoidably, gaps in the maybe-spiral. The incubus might well have been to all the places it apparently skipped without anyone noticing - after all, it had powers of hypnosis and shape shifting abilities. And it was, of course, entirely possibly that it had already seduced several women living in the Upper West Side without their realising it because the demon was assuming the shape of a husband or a lover. The Ghostbusters knew this, and were quite prepared to follow the incubus to its next likely location. This, however, proved unnecessary. There was already a warm PK trail waiting for them.

"Not to sound bitter or anything," said Kylie, as she pushed open the entrance to an impressive apartment block, "but I think it's appalling how some people live like this while other people live in cardboard boxes."

"Kylie, are you a communist?" asked Garrett.

Kylie shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe."

"You know John McEnroe lives in this very apartment block, don't you?"

"I knew he lived somewhere round here."

"Don't you think he earned it?"

"I concede that he was a talented athlete in his day, but it was tennis. Tennis is an elitist sport. He had rich parents, you know - things would have been much harder for him if he hadn't. And it's immoral how much athletes earn. What's the prize money at Wimbledon these days? Twenty thousand pounds? Something like that?"

"You do know that the men are paid more than the women in three out of the four grand slam tournaments, don't you?"

Kylie scowled. "I know."

"Stop bickering, you two," said Roland. "Come over here - I've found out why we haven't been thrown out by the doorman."

He was standing over the limp form of a uniformed man, who was sprawled on the floor and snoring quietly. Roland was holding a mildly excited PKE meter over him, just to eliminate the unlikely possibility that this guy was simply terrible at his job.

"Did it put the whole apartment block to sleep?" wondered Kylie.

Roland shrugged. "Guess so."

"So," said Garrett. "Some trophy wife is definitely getting lucky tonight. I wonder if it's Mrs. McEnroe."

"I hope so," said Kylie. "Everyone loves Super-Brat now - it's time he got a bit more bad publicity."

"You're cruel," said Garrett, studying his PKE meter. "But anyway, it looks like our demon headed up those stairs. I'll take the elevator; you guys'd better stick to the trail."

Roland nodded. "Agreed."

There was no danger of the elevator not working in a place like that. Garrett rolled over to it while Roland and Kylie started up the stairs.

"I'm wondering," Roland said as they walked, "about this whole spiral business. Do you think maybe it's trying to get to somewhere specific?"

"No," said Kylie. "I'm sorry, but I don't. I don't know about you, but if I want to get somewhere I don't travel in a spiral. I think it's just trying to cover as much ground as possible - you know, like mowing a lawn."

Roland frowned. "What?"

"How do you mow your lawn?"

"In straight lines."

"I would too, if I had a lawn, but some people prefer to start from the outside and spiral towards the middle. Either way you get all the grass. Or, in this case, you get a hell of a lot of women."

"Right," said Roland. "I see what you mean."

"He's sure gone a long way up," remarked Kylie, as they began to climb the fourth flight of stairs. "I wonder if he's been screwing his way through every woman in the apartment block."

"I see no reason to assume he hasn't."

"You know something? I don't know why we're bothering with this, really."

Roland turned round and gave her a withering look.

"Well," Kylie went on, "this incubus - it isn't doing anything a lot of human guys don't do. I mean it sees a woman it likes, it gets her to drop her guard, makes a lot of empty promises and convinces her to sleep with it, satisfies its lust, probably helps itself to her food in the morning and then walks out of her life forever. Happens to the best of us."

"Look, I know there are a lot of jerks out there, but most of them aren't dangerous. Not like the incubus, anyway. It can kill people."

"But it doesn't. At least, not in anything I've read. I found this story about a nun who was raped by the local priest in the eighteenth century, and he claims it wasn't him but an incubus assuming his form. The nun was discredited for apparently lusting after the priest, but she didn't suffer any physical damage. Well, besides the obvious."

"Well personally," said Roland, "I think the priest was probably lying about that."

"I think so too. God, men can be such assholes."

"So can women."

"True."

The upward trail stopped one floor short of the penthouse, and veered off to the left. Roland and Kylie followed it to, interestingly enough, Garrett, who was waiting outside the door to somebody's apartment.

"Ah, Kylie, you've finally realised your feelings for me," he purred. "Forget that slacker with the dumb little goatee and give in to your true desires."

Kylie exhaled heavily. "I can't be bothered to think of a clever answer. So how are we gonna play this? Is the door locked?"

"I don't know - I didn't just want to burst in," said Garrett.

"Well." Kylie strode towards the door. "I'm afraid we're gonna have to."

She tried the door handle and, to her surprise, the door wasn't locked. Then she saw that the lock had been forced. It made sense, of course - the incubus was walking around with a bodysuit made of human flesh, so he was unlikely to be fazing through anything.

The PKE meters began to buzz more insistently as the three Ghostbusters entered the apartment, but none of them particularly noticed. They all became distracted by the rude noises coming from one of the bedrooms. Roland, Kylie and Garrett all stopped and felt awkward for a few moments. Then Garrett said, "Kylie, you go in."

"Why me?" demanded Kylie.

"Because that woman, whoever she is, will be less freaked out if it's a woman who bursts into her bedroom and - "

"What, shoots the guy she's having sex with? How do you figure that one out?"

"Oh, come on. Imagine if it was you. Which of us would you rather -?"

"All right, all right, I'm going. Jesus, Garrett, you and your twisted logic."

Kylie had hoped for a few things during her life - relatively small things, like doing well in her education, and bigger things, like one day being reunited with her friend Jack who went missing when they were children. But now she was experiencing a new kind of hope altogether. She couldn't remember ever hoping for anything more fervently than she was now hoping that the woman in that bedroom wasn't innocently making love with her husband.

Taking a deep breath, Kylie pushed open the door and readied her proton pistol. She was encouraged when the woman didn't scream or threaten to call the police or anything like that. Her lover, meanwhile, climbed calmly off the bed. He, along with more or less everything in the room, was slightly illuminated by the artificial light trickling in from the street outside.

Kylie glanced at the woman lying on the bed. She was either in a deep sleep, or she was dead. Keeping her proton pistol between herself and the vague shape wandering around the room, Kylie slowly approached the bed and was soon able to see that the woman was breathing. That was interesting: screaming her head off with pleasure one moment and falling into impenetrable sleep the next. Kylie allowed herself a wry smile. Truth be told, it wasn't the first time she had encountered that particular phenomenon.

"Kylie!" Garrett's voice called. "What's going on in there?"

Kylie turned round sharply, and just caught sight of the incubus's naked form making for the bedroom doorway. "Not so fast!" she said, steadying her proton pistol on his back, and to her surprise the demon stopped (well, he could probably have made a clean getaway). Then he turned in the doorway, and she sensed that he was smiling.

"Kylie." He walked slowly towards her. "Fancy seeing you here."

Self control, self, control… She watched his face as it came nearer to her, the window and what little light was in the room. It was handsome all right, but it wasn't the face she had expected to see. Thankfully it wasn't the face of any old flames either; she had never seen this one before in her life. But still, it unnerved her. Most of what she had read seemed to indicate that she should be seeing Eduardo right now. So why the hell was she looking at some stranger? What did that mean?

She watched his face as it came nearer to her, the window and what little light was in the room. It was handsome all right, but it wasn't the face she had expected to see. Thankfully it wasn't the face of any old flames either; she had never seen this one before in her life. But still, it unnerved her. Most of what she had read seemed to indicate that she should be seeing Eduardo right now. So why the hell was she looking at some stranger? What did mean?

The incubus placed his hands on her arms, and suddenly her eyelids felt heavy. She vaguely wondered why Garrett and Roland weren't coming to her rescue, anti-feminist as that was. Hmm… maybe it would have been better to send Eduardo on this job. Kylie started to think about him, all tucked up in bed at home like a candy bar just waiting to be unwrapped and devoured. Then she looked up, and saw this complete stranger about to kiss her.

It was just as well he didn't look like Eduardo. If he did, she would have been tempted to fall into bed with him right there and then, never mind that a hypnotised sleeping woman would have been in there with them. But he didn't look like anyone she knew. He just looked like an averagely good looking man. Come on, Kylie, self control…

She forced herself to wake up and shot a short, sharp burst of proton fire directly at his abdomen. The incubus cried out and stumbled backwards. Kylie continued to shoot at him, following him across the room, frustrated that she couldn't seem to hold him in her proton stream. And then, when she saw him cowering behind charred arms (ooh, they were nice arms, but anyway…), she realised why. He was walking around inside actual human flesh. The proton stream couldn't penetrate it. Duh.

Kylie lowered her proton pistol and stared at the cowering demon. It took him a few seconds to realise that she had finished her assault, and then he gradually got to his feet. Kylie's eyes widened. To think she'd actually found that thing attractive just moments earlier! Now it was easy to tell that its flesh was definitely dead. It was dropping off every part of him, his face sliding down to his shoulders like a melting snowman. He stared at Kylie through angry red eyes. Those were the demon's eyes. They had to be, as the human eyes it had been using were now lying on the floor in a pool of their own fluid, still swaying like jelly from the force of impact, knocking into each other and then moving apart. It was truly disgusting, and Kylie had to look away.

Then she felt movement beside her and turned round, realising that the demon had run past her. She went over to the open window, leaned out and saw that what remained of the human flesh had been deposited on the fire escape. Now, apparently, the demon had no human form.

For a moment Kylie wondered to do. Then she decided that the most urgent thing in need of her attention was the welfare of her two colleagues. She crossed the room, stepping over the mounds of dead flesh and holding back considerable amounts of vomit, and made her way into the living room where she had left Roland and Garrett.

"Great," muttered Kylie, seeing her two team-mates sleeping contentedly on the floor, one on each side of a mahogany coffee table, Garrett's wheelchair next to his head. "So maybe it wouldn't have been wise to send Eduardo. GUYS! Come on - wake up!"

Coincidentally they did wake up, but Kylie was fairly sure her shouting at them hadn't been what did it. The incubus had left, and the whole building should be waking up at any moment. Which meant…

"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!" A piercing scream came from the bedroom.

"Oh God." Kylie fell to her knees, if only to be on a level with Roland and Garrett, who were just beginning to sit up. "She's just woken up and found several lumps of dead flesh in her room."

"Eww," remarked Garrett.

"Where's the incubus?" asked Roland.

"It left. I damaged its makeshift body - it will have gone to the nearest morgue."

"So let's get after it," said Garrett, climbing into his chair.

"No way." Kylie rose to her feet. "Before we do anything else we have to explain things to that woman in there, and you are not leaving me to do that on my own."

"Do we have to?" asked Garrett. "Can't we just sneak out and pretend we were never here?"

As if in answer to his question, the ceiling light clicked on. Roland, Garrett and Kylie all turned their heads to see a tousle-haired, robe-wrapped young woman standing in the doorway, looking at once angry, frightened, confused and like she was about to throw up.

"Hi," Kylie said sheepishly, making a very weak attempt at a smile. "We can explain all of this, if you'll just bear with us."

x x x

The woman who lived underneath the penthouse decided not to take any kind of legal action against the Ghostbusters, largely because she didn't want her husband (away on business, which Kylie immediately decided must mean he was having an affair) to find out about the incubus incident. Other than that, however, the team hadn't much good news to offer Egon the next morning.

"It was a complete shambles," Kylie told him. She had been volunteered for this task, and it was just the two of them, Roland and Garrett not wanting to have to tell their boss that they fell asleep on the job. "I nearly kissed it, Garrett and Roland fell asleep…"

Egon raised his eyebrows. "Garrett and Roland fell asleep?"

"Well, they were probably hypnotised."

"Ah, I see. Yes, that is going to be a problem."

"And that poor woman," Kylie went on. "She wakes up after what seems like an extremely racy dream to find three armed strangers in her apartment and a pile of human flesh on her bedroom floor! We had to clean that up, you know. It was horrible. I'll never complain about my kids throwing up on my clothes again."

"Right," said Egon. "We'll obviously have to rethink this. In the meantime I'd like somebody to call round and find out if any more cadavers have gone missing."

"Well I'm not doing it," said Kylie. "I've had to do everything. I had to burst into that woman's bedroom. I had to shoot the incubus. I had to tell you what a dog's dinner we made of the whole thing. And I had to clean up the eyes, you know. Roland and Garrett were both too wussy to go near them."

"Well," said Egon. "Why not ask Eduardo to do it? He did miss out on the fieldwork."

"Yeah." Kylie pursed her lips. She was still a bit concerned about the incubus not having resembled Eduardo even remotely. "Listen, have we got any more information on the incubus? Anything I might not have read?"

"Possibly. You can look."

"I will."

She had brought her two small daughters, Conchita (five-and-a-half) and Rose (two-and-three-quarters - aww), with her that day, largely because she and Eduardo both felt bad about asking Eduardo's brother and sister-in-law to take them while they were still (still!) working their way through some marital problems. The girls were being entertained by Charlene, who had done all her homework and was at a loose end for the rest of the weekend, when Kylie entered the rec room.

"Hi, Charlene," she said.

"Hi," Charlene responded.

"Babe," Kylie said to Eduardo, silently telling herself to stop worrying about the goddamn incubus. She loved him, she wanted him, all that. It didn't matter that the incubus hadn't in any way resembled him. Really it didn't. No, really. "Egon wants you to call around and find out if any more cadavers have gone missing."

Eduardo pulled a face. "How am I supposed to find that out?"

"Oh, come on, it shouldn't be a problem for you - you've got contacts in the police force and stuff."

"You mean Carlos. He's not working today."

"Excuses, Eddie."

"Right, right." Eduardo glanced at his daughters, and found he didn't much like the idea of them listening to one side of a conversation about grave robbing. "I'll go downstairs."

He went, and literally bumped into Peter Venkman in the doorway. Peter didn't bother saying sorry or oops or hello or anything like that. He said, "How can you live with three women?"

Eduardo cocked an eyebrow. "I wouldn't be without them."

"Well, no, neither would I," said Peter. "I love them like crazy, but really, it's insane! Just you wait until your two are teenagers."

"It's a long way off," said Eduardo.

"It may seem that way now…"

"Have they been bickering again?" asked Charlene.

"Yes." Peter stepped aside to let Eduardo out, and then walked into the room.

"Was it about Cameron?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Just wondered. When we talked to him yesterday, Dana didn't seem to like it very much. And Jess called me last night to have a rant about Dana getting Oscar to warn her off. She yelled at me for twenty minutes and then put the phone down. I don't think I said one word the entire conversation."

"We've got a Cameron at school," Conchita volunteered.

"Oh yes?" said Peter. "And what's he like?"

"He's a lot of fun."

"Handsome?"

"Sure, I guess. He's not ugly."

"Well, there's a tip for you," said Peter, looking from Charlene to Kylie. "If you ever have a son and you want him to have an easy time in life, name him Cameron."

x x x

Sunday, getting on for three thirty and Jessica still hadn't done any homework. It wasn't unusual. It wasn't unusual at all. She had been known to go to eight o'clock on Sunday night without so much as picking up a pen. She had been finding ingenious ways of putting it off all day: channel hopping, surfing the net, rearranging the icons on her computer desktop and even tidying and cleaning her bedroom.

"Ok," she said, when she had grimaced her way through an entire documentary about liposuction. "Time to knuckle down."

Great. She'd been alone in the house for all of half an hour and already she was talking to herself. Peter had been at work all day (to escape the bickering, his very suspicious daughter thought), and Dana had experienced some sort of grocery crisis whilst planning dinner and had to make an emergency trip to the supermarket with a promise that she would be back "soon". Well, that could mean more or less anything.

Jessica took her feet out from under her and placed them on the ground. It was a couple of minutes before she could be bothered to go the rest of the way to standing up. She managed it eventually, however, and couldn't help cutting a glance at the big bay window at the front of the room. That window provided an excellent view of Cameron's house, and sometimes of Cameron too. Not this time, however. This time, for once in a way, Jessica found herself looking at Cameron's mother. She had actually gone outside. Amazing! This was unheard of!

Curious, Jessica moved a few steps towards the window. She wasn't usually the type to spy on her neighbours, but this time… well, she had no excuse, but she was going to do it anyway. Cameron's mother (she really should find out her name) looked to be in her mid-thirties - maybe just a bit young to have a son of fifteen or sixteen. And she looked just like him. The same hair, the same mouth, the same lightly tanned skin… the same eyes as well, probably, but Jessica couldn't see them from all the way across the street.

Cameron's mother opened the garage, disappeared inside and moments later backed her car out of it. Then she drove off down the street. Jessica was pretty amazed by this, but not too amazed to act. This was an opportunity not to be wasted. She ran upstairs, pulled on her sneakers, ran back down the stairs again and flung open the front door.

Cameron was already outside, sitting on his front porch, his beautiful long-lashed midnight eyes closed, evidently enjoying the feel of the sun on his face (as well he might - he so rarely went outside, his mother being strangely agoraphobic on his behalf). Jessica strode across the street, approached him and said brazenly, "Hi."

His eyes fluttered open and he smiled that beautiful smile of his. "Hi," he said, in a voice that somehow made Jessica think of a warm vat of pure liquid chocolate.

"How's it going?"

"Not bad. I'm looking forward to tomorrow, to be honest. I know kids are supposed to hate school, but at least I'll get to see a bit of the outside world."

"Can I ask a rude question?"

"Is it: why does my mother make me stay indoors so much?"

"Yes," said Jessica. "And why do you put up with it?"

Cameron shrugged. "It's complicated, but basically I'm what you might call incident prone. Stuff happens to me, and to the people around me."

Jessica cocked an eyebrow. "Really? What stuff?"

"Honestly," said Cameron, rising to his full height, "I'd rather not say. A lot of it is kind of weird. You'd probably think I was nuts. Or lying."

"I doubt it. My dad's a Ghostbuster."

Cameron blinked. "He is?"

"Didn't you know?"

"No." He paused, not taking his eyes from her face for a few long moments (now that was nice). "Mom's gone out. Would you like to come in for a soda or something?"

"Or something?" echoed Jessica. "Like what?"

"Oh, I don't know." If smiles could kill… "A snack, maybe? A game of Parcheesi? A philosophical discussion? Whatever you want."

"Sure," said Jessica. "If you've got nothing better to do."

Cameron turned and pulled open the door. "Come on in."

As Jessica entered the house, she crossed two thresholds at once: the literal and the metaphorical. This was the first time she'd noticed and appreciated the back view of a guy in tight jeans.

"What would you like?" He took her through to the kitchen and pulled open the fridge. "Coke? Sprite? Mineral water?"

"Mineral water?" Jessica echoed scathingly. "That's the biggest scam going. It's from somebody's kitchen sink. You do know that, don't you?"

"Oh, Jessica. So young and yet so cynical."

"I'll have a Coke, thanks. Assuming you mean the kind you drink."

"Of course."

Cameron took two Cokes from the fridge and handed one to Jessica. Their fingers touched, and he gave her a look that made her think that all too brief contact had been very deliberate. Hmm… maybe she should let him know she was only thirteen.

"So what have you been up to?" Cameron asked chattily, as Jessica cracked open the Coke. "I noticed your mom going out. Have you been over there all by yourself?"

"Mhm." Jessica nodded, absently sipping on the Coke while she stared into his eyes. They were just so beautiful… "I've been putting off doing my homework."

"Not a fan of school, huh?"

"No."

"I never met anybody who is. So what are you into?"

"Um." Jessica had to think for a minute. She was finding the sound of his voice - so smooth, so silky, so wonderful - strangely hypnotic. "I don't know. The usual stuff. Sports, movies… and you can't live with my brother for thirteen years without being interested in music or he'd drive you nuts."

"You got a brother?"

"Ah-ha."

"I haven't seen him around."

"He's in, um… Memphis."

"Cool. We lived in Tennessee for a couple of years. How old is he?"

"Um… he's, um… eighteen."

"Right, so there's an older brother as well as a protective father. I'd better watch…"

She stopped listening. She couldn't listen anymore. His voice seemed to be fading away, besides which she had to concentrate pretty hard on keeping hold of that Coke can. Were Coke cans always so damn heavy? It wasn't just the can, though. Her eyelids, her knees, most of her body in fact, felt like it was being pulled down by lead weights.

"Jess…"

That was her name, she knew that much, and she thought she should probably answer it. But she couldn't. She couldn't even open her mouth, never mind find her voice.

"Jess, are you ok?"

Not really, she thought, feeling her knees begin to sag. And then it all went black.

To be continued...