Rush hour in New York was a lawless mess of elbows, briefcases, and weary commuters, meaning that Marie was focused on keeping her footing, gripping the metal railing as the subway car lurched forward in its usual jerky rhythm. The last thing she wanted was to be that person - sent tumbling into some stranger's lap because of a poorly timed stop.

But then the crowd surged. A new wave of bodies pressed into the car at the next station, forcing her forward, and directly into someone's space.

A warm, solid chest.

Marie looked up, already preparing to mutter an apology, only to freeze when she met the familiar smirking face of Peter Venkman.

"Oh," she said flatly.

Peter tilted his head, looking far too pleased. " Oh?"

"If you wanted an excuse to get close, sweetheart, you could've just asked," he added after a beat.

"Don't flatter yourself."

"I have to. No one else does it as well as I do."

Marie smirked, but he caught the flicker of amusement before she turned her head to hide it. Another hard lurch of the train threw them back together, her hand briefly pressing to his chest to steady herself..

Peter hummed. "Y'know, I'm starting to think fate is trying to tell us something."

Marie exhaled through her nose. "Yeah. That the MTA needs better infrastructure."

He grinned. "Or that we should just stop fighting the tension already."

She tilted her head, eyes sharp with something unreadable. Then, ever so casually, she reached up and tugged his tie, just enough to shift him off balance.

Peter inhaled sharply, fingers tightening around the strap above his head. "Careful," he murmured.

Marie leaned in just a little. "That's my line."

His smirk widened. "Oh, I like you."

She arched an eyebrow. "Pity the feeling isn't mutual."

Peter tsked. "See, I'd believe that, but you're still standing here, pressed against me, holding my tie like you don't quite want to let go."

Marie released it immediately, giving him a pointed look. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Oh, but I do." Peter studied her, voice dropping to something softer, more genuine. "I think I finally got you figured out."

"Is that so?"

He nodded, his gaze flicking over her features. "You like to be underestimated. It makes it more fun when you pull the rug out from under people. Makes the wins taste a little sweeter."

Her expression didn't change, but he saw the flicker of something beneath it - something sharp and knowing.

"Not bad," she admitted.

Peter grinned. "I'm full of surprises."

Marie hummed, unconvinced. Then, as the subway screeched into his stop, he tapped her arm. "This is me."

She raised an eyebrow. "Okay?"

He grinned. "You should come with me."

She snorted. "Oh yeah? Why's that?"

Peter leaned in just slightly, voice dropping conspiratorially. "You're psychic. Trust your instincts."

Marie tilted her head, as if actually considering the suggestion. He watched her, intrigued, as she let out a slow breath and, to his surprise, stepped off the subway just as the doors closed behind her.

Peter beamed. "See? That's the spirit."

Marie shook her head with a small chuckle. "This better be worth it, Venkman."

He led her through the streets, the late afternoon air cooling the city's usual scent of hot pavement and exhaust. A few minutes later, they reached Ghostbusters HQ, the old firehouse standing tall against the skyline. Marie eyed it with vague amusement.

"I guess if there's a chance we'll be working together, you should at least get a grand tour of the place" he winked at her as they approached the building.

"I've been here before, Peter" she pointed out, "the night of the Balmont case, remember?"

"Ah yes, but you didn't get the tour, the tour is the important part" he insisted, pulling the door open for her.

"This," he announced grandly, "is the nerve center of our operation."

Marie stepped inside, looking around. It smelled like burnt circuits, stale coffee, and old paper - comforting, in a weird way.

"Through that door, we have the garage, home to our lovely Ecto-1 - a car so finely tuned that it sometimes starts without screaming first."

Marie raised an eyebrow.

He led her further inside, "to your left," Peter gestured, "we have Egon's lab, where horrors beyond human comprehension take place."

Marie arched an eyebrow. "You mean science?"

"That's what he calls it."

They walked further in, and before Peter could keep rambling, a voice called out.

"Oh!"

Janine stood from behind her desk, adjusting her glasses.

"Are we finally bringing another woman on board?" she asked. "Because I swear to God , if I have to listen to these guys without backup for one more day-"

Peter huffed. "We are delightful company."

Janine gave him a look that could kill. Marie smirked and stepped forward, offering her hand. "Marie."

Janine shook it, studying her. "Janine," she responded. Then suddenly, her eyes lit up in recognition.

"Wait. Are you that Marie?"

Marie tilted her head. "Which Marie would that be?"

Janine opened her mouth to answer, but Peter grabbed Marie's arm, steering her away before Janine could say anything.

"And moving on ," he declared loudly.

Marie glanced back at Janine, amused. Janine just smirked knowingly.

Peter led her upstairs, his voice taking on a mock-tour-guide lilt.

"Up here, we have the inner sanctum of the Ghostbusters." He swept an arm out dramatically. "This is where the magic happens. And by magic, I mean sleep deprivation, poor life choices, and experimental caffeine consumption."

Marie gave him a sidelong glance. "You're very committed to this bit."

"Oh, sweetheart." Peter smirked. "I am this bit."

Marie rolled her eyes, but he caught the way she fought back a smile. He stopped at a door and turned to her. "Alright, this is the part where I show you something truly horrifying."

Marie raised an eyebrow. "Is this the part where you try to impress me with something stupid?"

Peter scoffed. " Try? No, no. I succeed in impressing you with something stupid."

He pushed the door open. Inside, shelves lined with jars of various things filled the room. Marie stepped in, peering at one.

"…Is that fungus?"

Peter leaned against the doorway, arms crossed. "I know. Sexy, right?"

Marie turned to face him fully. "You don't trust psychics, but you guys collect fungus here? "

Peter grinned. "Hey, this has nothing to do with me, I swear."

Marie shook her head, laughing softly. "You are so weird."

Peter pushed off the doorframe, stepping closer. "You like it."

Marie exhaled, tilting her head. "You're sure of that, huh?"

He took another step, closing the space between them. "I'd bet on it."

She didn't move. Didn't step back. Just held his gaze, testing him. For the first time, Peter really looked at her. And finally, he made up his mind about her, but he'd keep that information to himself for now.

"Next up on this tour…" he snapped back into character after a too-long beat and Marie, amused, followed along.