Ghostbusters HQ was quiet, save for the soft hum of equipment in the background and the rustling of cheap takeout containers. The four of them sat around the cluttered worktable, cartons of greasy noodles and half-eaten dumplings between them. None of them had spoken for a solid two minutes, too busy inhaling food like they'd just been through hell .

Which, to be fair, they had.

Peter finally broke the silence. He set his chopsticks down, leaned back in his chair, and exhaled hard. "So, just to recap - tonight started as a simple scouting mission. No packs, no problem. Then Captain Poltergeist decided to turn the place into a demolition derby. Ray got dragged across the floor like a human Swiffer. And then -" he pointed his chopsticks at Marie "-this one verbally annihilates the ghoul out of existence."

Marie smirked, stabbing at her noodles. "It worked, didn't it?"

Peter gave a slow, impressed nod. "I mean, sure. I've just never seen a ghost emotionally self-destruct before." He looked at Ray, deadpan. "I think I actually felt bad for the guy for, like, half a second ."

Ray snorted. "Oh yeah, tragic story. A rich, abusive asshole who got exactly what he deserved. Real tearjerker."

Peter turned back to Marie, studying her like he still wasn't quite sure what to make of her. "I gotta say, I pegged you as the quiet, mysterious type. But you really went for the jugular back there. Railroad empire? His wife? Women's rights?" He let out a low whistle. "That was cold."

Marie shrugged, popping a dumpling in her mouth. She thought as she chewed. "It's not hard to push buttons when people like him are all buttons. Entitlement. Pride. Legacy. Men like that can't stand the thought of being forgotten. Or worse - irrelevant. Wrong side of history type stuff, you know?"

Peter shook his head, still smirking. "Jesus. Remind me never to haunt you."

Egon, who had been listening quietly while fine-tuning the apparently-faulty PKE meter, finally chimed in. "It is interesting," he mused. "A direct verbal confrontation as a means of exorcism." He adjusted his glasses, looking at Marie with newfound curiosity. "Most accounts of spirit dissolution involve extreme emotional catharsis, or an external force disrupting their energy patterns. But this was a unique approach."

Marie took a sip of her soda and shrugged. "Most ghosts are just echoes, right? Stuck in a loop. But ones like him? The ones who know they're dead and refuse to let go? They need to be shoved into acceptance. Doesn't matter if it's done with a proton pack or a reality check."

Ray, who had been quiet for the last few minutes, suddenly grinned. "See, that's what I was saying earlier." He gestured vaguely between Egon and Marie with his chopsticks. "This is exactly why the scientific and the spiritual approach don't have to be at odds."

Peter groaned. "Oh, here we go ."

Ray ignored him, turning to Marie, animated now. "There's so much we still don't understand about energy, about consciousness! What you did back there is proof that there's an intersection. A bridge between the two approaches."

Marie smiled, intrigued. "You know, I usually avoid working with 'scientists' because they tend to dismiss what they can't quantify."

"Not this scientist," Ray said, practically vibrating with excitement.

Peter scoffed, waving a dumpling at him. "Yeah, well, this scientist also thought Rosita was the real deal, so let's not hand him a Nobel Prize just yet."

Marie perked up. "Rosita?"

Peter grinned, sensing an opportunity. "Oh yeah. Ray's first choice. An absolute gem of a woman. Said she had visions, claimed she could commune with spirits..." he paused for effect, leaning toward Marie with a teasing smirk, "...turns out she was just a nice old lady with a deck of tarot cards and a very lucrative side hustle."

Ray groaned. "Okay, in my defense-"

"She had a tip jar , Ray," Peter reminded him, delighted. "A tip jar . For when her spirit guide - who conveniently only spoke Spanish, by the way - needed a 'monetary offering.'"

Marie chuckled. "Let me guess—she was full of vague, dramatic predictions that sounded just real enough to sell?"

Peter snapped his fingers. " Bingo! But it gets better. Rosita had the whole setup - beaded curtains, glowing crystal balls, a giant neon 'Fortunes Read' sign flickering like a bad horror movie prop. And get this - her 'spirits' only seemed interested in convincing Ray that he had a dark aura and needed a cleansing ritual ."

Marie let out a low chuckle. "How much did she charge for that?"

Peter smirked. "Oh, a steal - two hundred bucks for the 'basic cleanse,' but for five hundred, she'd throw in a personal blessing and a free tarot reading."

Marie snorted. "Oh yeah, she was a fraud."

"Thank you!" Peter gestured at her triumphantly before turning back to Ray. "See? You could've just set your money on fire and called it a day."

Ray sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I knew she was a fraud, okay? I was just trying to be thorough."

Peter wagged his chopsticks. "Yeah, sure. Thorough. That's what we're calling it."

Ray muttered something into his takeout container.

Marie shook her head, amused. "Some people have a real ability, but if they never learn to use it, they just…fake it. Or worse, convince themselves they're real." She toyed with her chopsticks. "They feel something, sense something, but instead of understanding it, they fill in the blanks with whatever sounds good."

Ray, still stuck on an earlier thought, leaned forward again. "But you - you were trained, right? You learned how to actually use what you have."

Marie hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. Sort of. I guess I met the right people who helped me figure out what was real and what was just noise."

Egon, fascinated, interlocked his fingers. "And what is real, in your experience?"

Marie's expression shifted, thoughtful now, more serious. "Energy. Emotion. Echoes of what's left behind." She looked up, her gaze lingering on Ray's. "And the fact that science and belief aren't as far apart as people think."

Ray smiled, slow and knowing. Peter opened his mouth to respond but paused, eyeing her thoughtfully. He leaned forward slightly. "Y'know, you're dangerous."

Marie arched her brow. "Oh?"

He grinned. "Yeah. You're making Ray feel seen in a way that makes him even more of a true believer, and that is a slippery slope, my friend."

Marie glanced at Ray, whose face was slightly pink as he focused a little too hard on his food. She smiled.

"Well," she said, "if it helps… I believe in you too, Peter."

Peter blinked, thrown for a split second. Then, his smirk returned. "Careful," he said, pointing at her with his chopsticks. "Flattery will get you everywhere."

Ray rolled his eyes. "Peter-"

Peter held up a hand. "Look, I'll admit, you have a… very particular charm, " he said, gesturing at Marie. "And you've got skills, I'll give you that. But this gig? This is a business, not a séance. Ghostbusters is science. " He pointed at Marie. "You? You're, like, anomalous evidence at best."

Marie smirked. "And yet, here we are."

Peter rolled his eyes but didn't argue.

Ray, still smiling, reached for another dumpling. He knew exactly where he stood. And after tonight, he had a pretty good feeling Marie wouldn't be a one-time collaborator.