I don't not own Ghostbusters.
I own Kitty and Angie Reed, and Remy Safar.
Angie snored, her mouth opened slightly at the corner as the nasally noise exited her mouth as she clutched the green blanket to her exposed chest. The firehouse was silent, not even the rat's made a noise – though if they had, they'd be no telling over the sound of her snoring. She seemed to sleep through the noise itself, which was odd when she was jolted awake by the sound of a car back-firing instead of the chronic snoring erupting from between her lips.
She sat straight up in bed, the green blanket falling to her waist as she looked around at the empty dorm room. The boys' beds were still made from the night before – well, at least Egon and Winston's were. Peter's looked something like a tornado tried to make it up, complete with rips in the sheets and random debris from the night before. It was curious, she thought, why the boys hadn't slept in their beds when she suddenly noticed how chilly it was in the room. She looked down at her chest and even in the darkness of the night, noticed that she wasn't wearing a shirt. In fact, to go into greater detail, she wasn't wearing anything besides the sheet on the bed, of which she pulled up to around her neck, hiding her naked body.
She mentally slapped herself at the idea of exposing her breast to the empty room, laughing at her own expense. How funny it would be for Venkman to walk in on the two of them as they slept, or even before when they were in less than saint-like positions. Knowing Peter and his loud mouth, he'd probably make a remark of how she was 'doing it wrong', and give her advice on how to fix it; the idea chilled her to the bone.
With the idea of 'chill' in her mind, she noticed that the warmth she'd fallen asleep to had disappeared; Ray wasn't beside her, fast asleep like she'd thought. Her brain racked around the idea before she figured he'd gone outside for a cigarette, or maybe went to find the boys for some sort of crowd control. Maybe he was working on another experiment with the slime, or maybe he simply disappeared into the night.
Ray wouldn't do that, she thought. He's too sweet; he would feel bad as soon as he closed the door if that had happened. He also wouldn't leave her at his place of work and temporary residence. That would just be poor planning, a terrible trait for a scientist.
Through the darkness, she could see faint shapes, the yellow street light outside aiding in her search for an article of clothing as she stuck her foot out from under the covers. Her toes touched the cold hard wood, sending a shock over the 'little piggies', as she searched for an article of clothing to throw on. Anything would do at this point, she thought. A shirt, pair of pants, one of the boys' jumpsuits – she would not discriminate. Something, anything to cover her exposed chest would be fantastic.
Finally, her toes traced along something soft. With dexterity her mother told her never to use, she wrapped her toes around the piece of fabric and flipped it up over end. It landed roughly in her lap as she shimmied her way into the garment. Sneaking her way into the shirt, she pulled one arm through the arm hole followed by the other, laughing at how big the shirt actually was against her frame. She wasn't the tiniest, but she felt like a child trying to wear 'big girl' clothes. Her fingers moved to the front of the shirt as she buttoned up the front of the shirt, the idea slowly dawning on her that it was Ray's flannel shirt from the night before. In fact, she was positive it was from the distinct smell of motor oil and cologne – Old Spice, if she wasn't mistaken.
She'd on purposely let the last few buttons near the collar of the shirt loose, creating a tantalizing neckline towards her chest; a bit of a surprise for Ray as she was feeling more courageous with him. It was like she was in high school again, feeling as giddy as a school girl. Though, the thought quickly dissipated as she went to stand up off the bed, the joints in her back sounding like a box of popular rice cereal as she stood up on her own.
So, she wasn't a school girl anymore - it didn't mean that she was old, she'd hoped. Sure she was getting on in years; her once youthful face earning a few new worry lines, bags started to appear under her eyes, and she couldn't ignore that whole back-popping thing – but it didn't mean she was old!
Her hand reached out to the door knob, twisting her wrist as the door opened, creaking as it did. How Ray didn't notice her was beyond her as he was right there at the door, sitting at the kitchen table.
With his head in his hand, Ray went over the notes he'd written down one more time. This was starting to get on his nerves as the goo was stagnant once more after growing exponentially, during his 'absence' with Angie. After Ray and Angie disappeared within the confides of the dorm room, the goop apparently had a bit of a workout as it had bubbled over once more, this time covering the entire table, dripping off the side into a small pool on the linoleum. This was an exceptional discovery, he'd thought as he collected the excess slime, spooning it off the floor and into a convincingly clean beaker from Egon's lab.
Now he was stuck analyzing it, noting it's characteristics in the middle of the night when all he'd wanted to do was to go back to bed and lie next to the young woman in his bed. But this occupied his mind for the moment, the riddle, the puzzle behind this goo was too enticing, to intriguing to pass up. He took a long drag from his tobacco pipe, letting the smoke pass from his lips in something of a puff. The stylized tobacco pipe was the focus of Angie's attention as she smiled, surprised that in all this time, he was still using that thing.
Angie began to walk towards the kitchen table, trying her best to stay quiet in spite of the noisy linoleum flooring creaking below her feet. The creaky floor boards gave her away as Ray quickly spun around, smiling as soon as he noticed the young woman, her hair messy, her makeup slightly smudged, wearing his flannel shirt. It was a sight to see. She smiled back at him, giving him a bit of a wink as she sauntered beside of him. Slowly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hands following something of a muscle memory as they snaked their way around her waist before she kissed him on his chapped lips. She moaned against his lips, melting into the kiss. Even after this long absence, after the fights, he still had this effect on her to make her melt in an instant.
Reluctantly she pulled away, sighing deeply as she leaned her forehead on his. Ray subconsciously gnawed on his bottom lip as she looked into his dark brown eyes, causing something of an uproar in him. Angie broke the silence, sighing contently once more before whispering out the words. "I can't believe you still have that thing."
Ray's brows creased, thinking what the hell she was talking about when the strong smell of tobacco burning jogged his memory. Sitting on the table, right beside of the disappointing goo, was a dark wood stained tobacco pipe, the embers still burning in the bowl as smoke bellowed out.
"I would have thought you'd thrown it out when we broke up."
"It was a nice gift." Ray reasoned, picking up the piece from the table.
"My timing was seriously off."
"How could you've known I was trying to quit?" Ray asked as he took a drag from the Sherlock Holmes-ian pipe. Smoke bellowed out from between his lips as his mind was drawn once again to the goo, now sitting contently in both a Mason jar and 50 milliliter beaker respectively. Different theories running around in his head, he didn't notice Angie's second long glance at the living room.
Peter, Egon and Winston had passed out in the living room. Sprawled out over the couches, chairs and even parts of the coffee table, the three of them tried their best to sleep under the circumstances. Peter had taken up part of the couch, his leg thrown over the arm of the chair as he clutched a pillow close to his body, nuzzling closer as he stirred in his sleep. Egon reclined on the La-Z Boy recliner. His neck craned back on the head rest, he crossed his arms over his chest as it lifted and relaxed with every deep, nasally breath. Winston leaned over the arm of the couch next to Peter, resting his head on the arm rest in an uncomfortable position. He groaned deeply against his lips as he shifted, the pain in his neck too much to bare.
Suddenly, Peter jumped from his dream like state, holding on to the environment around him as his he was going to fall through the floor. Wide-eyed from his near brush with death, Peter looked around the common room, his thinning hair flipped over as stood on end, adding a couple inches to his all ready tall frame. His eyes wondered around the almost quiet common room before they landed on Ray and the half-naked Angie as they were caught in an embrace. Following down Angie's silhouette, his eyebrow raised at the sight of her toned legs. A sly smirk crept along his face before Ray sent him a silent glare from the safety of Angie's arms.
"Morning." Peter said, trying to fake-casualty, ignoring that his friend was in a loving embrace with his arch nemesis. "You two have fun?"
"A blast." Angie said with a smirk, hands on her curvy hips.
"Sorry I missed it." Peter said, his cynical expression turning to one of humor as his smirk turned to a full-grown smile, for a moment shocking Angie's system. His pushed himself up off the couch, peeling himself from the warm and oh-so comfy couch as he stood completely still. Like a baby giraffe just learning to walk, Peter took a few steps forward, trying his hardest to regain his balance before grabbing onto the end of the couch for stabilization.
"Aye, Egon!" Peter shouted at the scientist in the La-Z boy recliner, watching as he didn't move a muscle. Taking matters into his own hands, Peter grabbed a pillow from the couch, fresh with his own drool on the corner and chucked it at Egon's head. The fluffy pillow bounced off of his head, crushing his glasses onto his face as he awoke with a growl. Egon sat up straight in the chair, sliding the back of the chair up quickly as he blinked a couple times to prove he was really awake. Egon followed Peter's path of once awake, finding exactly where he was and why someone was waking him up. His cheeks blushed as he noticed Angie in the kitchen wearing only Ray's flannel shirt from the night before. His eyes darted to the ground and stayed there as he stood up from his recliner post-haste.
Winston groaned once more, noting the extra noise in the common room than before. He opened his eyes and was met with the sight of Peter and Egon trying to wake up and go back to the shared bedroom. He didn't even seem to notice, or even think it was that strange seeing Angie and Ray together – he'd kind of figured it would happen again. Old feelings creeping back up again, it was only a matter of time until they were doing it like rabbits.
Winston followed behind Peter and Egon in a sleep-deprived haze, following the sound of their feet and the shift shapes that crossed his view as he shuffled his feet back to the dorm, waiting on baited breath to climb back into his bed and fall asleep again. He shuffled into the dorm room, closing the door behind him with a satisfying thud.
Angie and Ray waited for only a moment, waiting until the groans coming from the dorm room turned into the sweet song of deep snoring before they resumed what they were doing. Angie smiling softly against her lips as he arms sneaked their way around Ray's neck once more, pulling him closer for a kiss.
Their sweet moment was crushed by the slimes bubbling along with their merriment. The two of them pulled away as they eyed the pink goop, waiting for a sweet moment to ruin. A sigh escaped from Ray's lips as Angie reluctantly moved away from his warmth, opting for the cold chair beside of him. She hissed loudly of the cold wood on the soft skin of her thighs as she eased on the chair next to him. Ray watched, trying his hardest not to laugh at her reaction to the cold before getting back to the task at hand: the Slime.
Now, of course, it decided to lie quietly. The stagnate slime stayed perfectly still in its contained state, in both the beaker and the Mason jar. Ray narrowed his eyes at the suspicious slime, having never come in contact with anything like it before. It would be great if they had found something like this while investigating hundred years ago, it seemed; but they had nothing to go off of.
The 'slime' that Peter had been hit with by Slimer was nothing – a Class I supernatural phenomena. He had no after effects, besides being completely pissed off at the little onion-head. No ghosts tried to exit the slime; it didn't bubble when he got angry, or even react to his emotional state. No, what this pink goo was was something they had never seen before.
They had looked at everything, all of the data on goo that they could find. Nothing in the Tobin Spirit Guide, the Spates Catalog, and even the Occult Reference-Net – nothing that could be connected to the slime. Ray's eyebrow raised as a new theory popped into his head. Nothing had shown up in the references because they were looking for the wrong thing. Simply slime wasn't going to make any waves in the literary community, but Psychomagnotheric slime might!
Without warning, Ray jumped from his seat, pushing the wooden chair back as it screeched along the wooden floor before making his way to the counter. He searched franticly; looking under paper plates, behind cereal boxes, even in the freezer for no good reason other than he hadn't looked there before.
Finally he found it, two hardcover books, each about the size of phone books hiding under a box of week old pizza. Angie turned her nose up at the mess of the kitchen. "What does Kitty even do here?" She remarked, her soft features twisting in disgust.
Ray smiled as he held the 600-page books close to his chest with one hand, and grabbed Angie's hand with the other, pulling the two of the towards the couch. With a terribly loud thud, Ray silently cursed himself as the books hit the coffee table, the loud sound possibly waking up the fellow Ghostbusters. He was relieved when he didn't hear anything after, no groans, no cursing, and no threats on his life.
Angie plopped beside Ray, bouncing on the aging couch as she watched him with his childlike enthusiasm. Ray finally sat down, pulling the heavy and excessively wordy hardback of Tobin's Spirit guide into his lap. They had learned after the first couple copies of this book ripping and tearing too easily under the 'normal' wear of the book, that they might as well had gotten a hardback.
Before diving head first into the book, burying himself in the book's linen pages, Ray paused, holding the front cover in his hands. With a heavy sigh, Ray looked over his shoulder at Angie, her dark eyes questioning him. "I have an idea, but I need to do a lot of research on this first." He started. "If you want to go home, you can. I understand."
Angie, ever the defiant one, smiled before leaning towards the coffee table, grunting as she picked up the other hardcopy. The cover read Spates Catalog, embossed in the ancient cracked leather. Angie lightly ran her finger tip over one of the major cracks, feeling the rough texture on her finger tip before she flipped open the first couple pages, diving into a night of pure research.
Ray smiled before starting on his own book, flipping passed the Table of Contents and Author's Notes to get to the occult stuff. The homey smell, known to many as 'old book smell' filled the common room, causing something of a permanent smile on his face as he read a little bit of the Guide. The smile only grew when he felt Angie's head lean on his shoulder as she flipped through the pages, skimming over the walls of text to find simple key words that would help this night go some much faster.
Soon the skimming seemed to slow, crawling at a snail's pace before pausing all together, information of case file on a Ultradimentional Swarmer exposed to light as Ray heard soft snoring on his shoulder.
Angie's eyes closed as she fell asleep, resting her tired head on his shoulder. He felt his heart beat up into his chest as he felt her moan against him, nuzzling closer to him. He glanced down at her as she cuddled closer to him.
This beautiful young woman, clad only in his flannel shirt, with Spates Catalog across her lap was a sight. It made him ache, thinking of all this time he'd missed with her; but made him thankful that she was back in his life.
It wasn't long before the scientist grew weary himself, promising himself to only close his eyes for a few seconds before drifting off to sleep himself.
Here is a little fluff from Ray and Angie.
Happy holidays!
Hope you enjoyed it.
~pure.