Peter's Sunshine Day

Spring had supposedly arrived, but it was one of those days when the weather seemed to have changed every time you looked out the window. Early in the morning, huge fluffy snowflakes fell, but none of them stuck to the ground. Only a few of the parked cars showed accumulations of snow on the side facing into the wind. By mid-morning, the precipitation had changed to spits of rain on the asphalt under gloomy skies. In the afternoon, however, the sun came out, blue sky began to show through the clouds, and green showed in some of the nearby grass, in place of the brittle brown of winter.

Except for Janine Melnitz, who came inside in the morning in a swirl of snowflakes, no one inside the old firehouse was aware of any of the weather changes. The secretary dropped off some supplies, then prudently departed. No one else set foot outside, or peered through the windows.

Late in the day, Winston Zeddemore half-heartedly rubbed a clean rag along the fender of Ecto, the converted ambulance that served as their land-based conveyance when they went on calls. He sighed. Three days before, shortly after his return from a visit with his family, he had received a telephone call from his mother, warning him that several family members who had been at the gathering had come down with some type of nasty stomach bug. Sure enough, a few hours later the bug found him. The fourth Ghostbuster was no longer ill, but he had little energy, and moved listlessly, at a fraction of his normal pace.

Ray Stantz, their resident expert on the occult, had been the next to fall victim. He now sat on the couch, aimlessly watching television while he sipped ginger ale and tried to stay awake, his normal exuberance for the moment nearly extinguished.

The third person to fall to the bug was Egon Spengler; neither physics nor his lab experiments proved a sufficient barrier. The blond man hated being sick, considering it a serious waste of time that could be better spent. Still, it's hard to calibrate instruments or read a meter with any accuracy while worshipping the porcelain god... At the moment, he lay in bed, debating whether or not to let himself fall asleep as he stared at the ceiling.

For two days, the last healthy member of the quartet, psychologist Peter Venkman, had been cleaning up, running ginger ale and crackers to his ailing friends, and monitoring calls on the answering machine whenever Janine wasn't there. He had convinced her the evening before that, since she had so far avoided catching whatever it was, she should take a day off if she didn't want to get sick, too. It was an interesting conversation. She had argued that it might already be too late, and he had rejoined that, no offense, but he didn't need another sick person around the place. She had reluctantly agreed that he was right; they were all in foul moods anyway.

Now, however, the brown-haired man, who had sincerely hoped to be spared such a cruel indignity, was in the bathroom being violently ill.

"Peter?" called Ray. "Peter, I'm out of ginger ale." He waited a moment, then called again, more insistently. "Peter?"

Egon, listening to the sounds coming from the bathroom, wearily hoisted himself out of bed and called down to Ray. "I believe Peter is incapacitated at the moment, Raymond. Perhaps Winston could get you some ginger ale, or you could get it yourself. I'm going back to bed." And he suited his actions to his words.

Downstairs the door banged open. "Where is Dr. V?" Janine demanded. "I only agreed to leave because he promised he would keep an eye on the answering machine, and the mayor has been calling all afternoon!"

"Last I knew he was upstairs with Egon," Winston told her. "Didn't you say you'd changed the message to say we were closed due to illness, anyway?"

"Haven't any of you been watching television?" she asked in an apparent non-sequitor, taking off her coat and heading for the lockers.

"I was watching STAR WARS on video," replied Ray, who had come to find out what was going on. "What's wrong?"

"There's an eight-foot yellow demon tossing people around at the JFK Airport Hilton," she said as she pulled out a jumpsuit and began putting it on. "Last I heard, no one had been seriously hurt, but it smashed a grand piano to toothpicks, and trashed the fitness center, and then it headed up. The manager is afraid it's going to start throwing people out windows on the upper floors." She finished pulling up the zipper. "I know you three guys are sick, but Peter and I have to do something."

"You and Peter can't take on an eight-foot demon by yourselves," Ray protested. "We'll come." He shuffled towards the lockers, Winston right behind him.

She looked from Ray to Winston in exasperated affection. "Yeah, right. Neither one of you looks like you could even pick up your proton pack, let alone go trotting off after a demon carrying one."

"Hey, Melnitz, I thought you weren't going to hang around the sickies any more," said Peter as he came down the stairs. He stopped, eyeing Janine in her jumpsuit, and Ray and Winston stepping into theirs. "Hey, wait a minute - what's going on?"

"Dr. V! Where have you been? We've got a call out at JFK, and it can't wait." She opened his locker, then thrust his jumpsuit at him, not noticing his skin was a trifle paler than normal.

He reached out automatically and took the garment, beginning to put it on. "So what about these two guys?" he queried, gesturing at his two friends. "Zed may get a few feet from the car before he falls on his nose, but Tex here will probably fall asleep on the way there."

"Gosh, no, I won't, Peter!" exclaimed Stantz. "People are getting hurt. We have to go."

"Where are we going?" Spengler's bass voice inquired. "I thought we were closed."

"Oh, Egon, are you sure you should be up?" The Ghostbusters' secretary looked anxiously at the physicist. "I just came for Dr. Venkman, not to drag the three of you out when you're sick."

"Egon, it's an eight-foot demon at the JFK Airport Hilton," Ray cried before the blond man could say anything. "We can't let Peter and Janine try to handle something like that on their own!"

"That is correct," Egon replied. "Especially since I believe Peter is not feeling his best at the moment, either."

"Hey, I told you not to try eating just yet," Venkman retorted. "You try cleaning up industrial-size chunks and see if you don't blow a few of your own." He hefted his proton pack. "Come on, Melnitz. If we move it, maybe we can make it out of here before Ray finishes pulling up his zipper."

Janine smiled sweetly. "I was just waiting for you, Dr. V," she said as she put her proton pack in the back of Ecto-1 beside his.

"Really, Peter," Egon expostulated, "if this truly is a demon, you and Janine can hardly hope to handle it by yourselves."

The psychologist looked exasperated. "And what are you gonna do, Spengs? Barf on it?" He snorted. "Winston is the only one who has a prayer of picking up his pack, let alone carrying it very far. What are you going to do if we can't use the elevators? No, I don't think so."

"I'm going," Winston announced as he put his own proton pack in the back of the reconditioned hearse. "Egon's right - just the two of you isn't enough if it's really a demon."

Peter opened his mouth, closed it, then rolled his eyes. "And you people call ME stubborn!" He took Egon's pack away from him and put it back on the rack, cutting off Spengler's immediate protest. "You can read the P.K.E. meter for us. But, Spengs -" He looked his friend straight in the eye. "If we can't use the elevators, you're staying in the lobby for crowd control. We'll have the radios."

The physicist pursed his lips, but nodded reluctantly as he realized Venkman wouldn't back down.

Peter turned then to Ray, who was attempting to lift his own proton pack. "I don't think so, Tex," he said as he put it back on the rack, too. "You're not ready for lugging that thing around, either. And if you go bounding ahead of us because your enthusiasm for a neat bust temporarily makes you feel better, I'll haul you back myself, by your collar, if necessary. Got it?"

"But, Peter -"

"He's right, Ray," Winston interjected. "Just this morning you got tired coming down the stairs."

"Yeah, and you're not much better, Zed," Peter retorted as he herded them into Ecto-1. "Your job is to watch Janine's back."

"And yours," Winston added pointedly.

"Hey, that goes without saying," Peter told him brightly as Zeddemore backed Ecto-1 out into the street. "So - anybody got any ideas about which demon is eight foot tall and yellow, and likes trashing things?"

Ray was unable to locate any eight-foot yellow demons in the laptop edition of Tobin's Spirit Guide on the way to the airport. Eight-foot demons, and yellow demons, but not eight-foot yellow demons. Janine patted his hand as he sighed.

"Hey, don't sweat it, Ray," Peter said as they pulled up to the front of the hotel. "You've told us before that Tobin's couldn't possibly contain all the demons we might run into. It's been damn good, but..." He shrugged. "We shouldn't need to know its name to send it where it belongs."

"I'd still feel better if we knew something about this demon," Ray answered morosely.

"Too true, m'man," Winston said, "but I guess we just take universal precautions."

Egon and Ray looked at him quizzically, picturing the latex gloves and pocket masks they had been told of at their recent CPR refresher, while Peter laughed and elaborated on Winston's statement. "Don't let it touch you, don't look it straight in the eye, don't piss it off leave that to me," he interjected playfully. "At a strategic moment, of course. Don't let it get behind you, be prepared for lightning bolts that sort of thing."

Zeddemore nodded emphatically as they got out of Ecto-1. "In other words, pretend you're sensible and sane for a change." He was smiling as he spoke, but he wasn't kidding. "You, too, Pete." Venkman rolled his eyes as he hefted his pack.

"Those are sensible precautions," Egon agreed, ignoring Winston's comment on their sanity.

"Egon, are you sure you shouldn't stay here?" Janine inquired as Peter helped her put her pack on her shoulders. "You look awfully pale."

"I'll be fine," the physicist said absently. He was already engrossed in readings on his ever-present P.K.E. meter. "Hmmm."

It was Janine's turn to roll her eyes. Peter just caught Egon's elbow in one hand and directed him into the building. "Come on, big guy. You can 'hmmm' inside. It's still kinda cold out here." He opened his mouth to ask Spengler what this particular 'hmmm' meant today, but he was interrupted.

"Oh, good, you're finally here," said a gray-haired man in a dark blue Italian suit as they walked into the lobby of the Airport Hilton. "I was afraid the whole hotel would be trashed before you arrived."

Janine bristled and spoke before any of her companions could. "Lighten up, buddy," she said indignantly. "Ghostbusters get sick just like anybody else. You should count yourself lucky any of them managed to get here at all!"

"Of course we came as soon as we could!" Ray exclaimed as the man retreated slightly before their vehemence.

"Where is the entity now?" Peter asked smoothly. Janine looked at him in surprise; she had figured he would be angry, too. Then she realized he was just hiding it better, and probably thinking the sooner they got the job over, the better.

"On the second floor," replied the gray-haired man, smoothing his tie. "I'm Jason Arbuthnot, manager here. I would ask that you -"

The Ghostbusters were no longer listening, having already started across the lobby floor. "Elevator working?" Winston demanded.

"Yes, but -"

An attractive young woman met the five of them at the elevator bank. "Please excuse Jason," she said. "I think he feels each piece of broken furniture as if it were a part of him." She smiled. "I have a key to put an elevator at your disposal. What else do you need to know?"

Peter smiled back, but all he asked was, "Where did the entity first appear?"

Egon looked up from the P.K.E. meter he was studying again (or still) and eyed his friend, who merely waggled his eyebrows and kept asking the lovely raven-haired woman questions about the eight-foot tall yellow demon.

Janine nudged Winston. "Is Dr. V sick?" she asked sotto voce. "I can't believe he's not flirting with her!"

Zeddemore regarded the psychologist thoughtfully. "Egon did say something about Peter not being at his best before we left," he answered quietly.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" the secretary groused.

The elevator deposited them on the second floor. "Thanks, Alberta," said Peter to the young woman (her name was on a gold name tag), "but I think you better go back down now." He grinned at her. "See if you can keep Jason calm and out of our hair, okay?"

"Of course, Dr. Venkman." Her words were formal, but the look she gave him was not. "Stop by when you're done," she added. Her eyes twinkled. "To present your invoice, I mean." The elevator doors closed again, and they were alone on the second floor. Except for an eight-foot tall yellow demon causing tremendous crashing noises down the hall somewhere to their left.

"Okay, quick recap in case any of you didn't get all that," Peter said, looking from Winston to Janine. "The critter first showed up in the exercise room and threw around some of the weight machines. Nobody's hurt except a few cuts and scrapes from not moving out of the way fast enough; Big Yella hasn't deliberately attacked any people yet, at least as far as Alberta knew. She said mostly it just wailed a lot and tossed stuff out of its way like it was looking for something."

"Sounds like one of my nephews having a temper tantrum," Janine commented.

Peter threw her a speculative glance. "So, Spengs, ready yet to tell us what readings you got?"

Spengler shook himself out of his reverie; he was really very tired. "I was merely waiting for the appropriate moment, Peter," he said, very much on his dignity. "The readings are actually rather erratic," he continued,
"even now when we are much closer to the entity." He pointed his meter down the hall in the direction of the thuds and booms and keening cries from the yellow demon.

"Let me see," Ray said, checking his own P.K.E. meter as they began walking in that direction. "Oh, wow, I've never seen anything quite like that!"

"Why am I liking this less and less?" Winston murmured to Janine. "Wanna tell us what you're talking about, homeboy?" he added a little louder.

"It looks more like the potential for a demon," Ray said, still intrigued in the readings. "I mean, look at the way they spike and decline!" he exclaimed as he showed his companions the readings on the meter in his hand.

"Raymond is correct," Egon announced. "At one moment, the readings seem to indicate a very powerful demon presence, but then the readings dip as if we were dealing with a considerably lesser entity. Most peculiar."

"Hmmm..." said Peter. All four looked at him askance. "What?" he demanded. "Egon is the only one who can say 'hmmm'?"

Ray peered at him. "Are you feeling okay, Peter?"

"Fine as frog hair, Tex," Venkman replied, winking at him. "Ready to open the door and get our first look at Mr. Whiny?" The sound of splintering wood followed his words. "Oops, front and center, Melnitz!" he said as he flung open the door.

"Fine as frog hair?" Winston mouthed as he followed the two into a large ballroom, Ray and Egon right behind him. Winston, Janine and Peter powered up their proton packs.

A small table sailed through air, missing Peter's head by mere inches as he tried to get his first look at the yellow monstrosity causing so much trouble. "Whoa!" he yelped. "Time out!"

Janine opened fire as the demon picked up another piece of furniture. "You okay, Dr. V?" Winston's stream joined hers.

"Just peachy," the psychologist replied. As he was about to fire as well, he stopped, cocked his head to one side and regarded the big yellow vaguely man-shaped thing in front of them. "Hey, hang on a minute, guys!"

"What?!" Winston exclaimed. "You want us to stop firing?"

"Yeah," said Peter. "Look at it." The demon had dropped the piece of furniture it had had in its hand, and was swatting at the proton streams ineffectively, oily orange tears coming from its enormous eyes.

Janine stopped firing first, Winston reluctantly a few seconds later. "What are you thinking, Peter?" inquired Egon with a frown. He and Ray had stayed back at Peter's insistence, but not very far back.

Venkman holstered his thrower. "Hey, little guy," he said. "You lost?" He took one small step closer to the demon, which watched his every move.

Winston frowned. "Little guy?" He ignored Peter's, "Is there an echo in here?" as he snapped his fingers and began to grin.

"Egon?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Do me a favor, would ya?"

"What is it you wish me to do, Peter?" Egon did not sound enthusiastic.

"Go to the exercise room down in the basement and see if you can find any sign of the gate our friend here came through, okay? Winston?"

"Yo."

"Go with him, please." He took another step closer.

"Really, Peter, I am not yet that feeble. Even if I should have thought to look for a gate myself..." Spengler's voice trailed off.

"No sweat, big guy - you got dragged out of bed for this one, remember? You're allowed," Peter said. "Junior here is just confused." He gestured at the demon, which still watched him closely with wide eyes. "You think Momma and Daddy are going to be as reasonable if they think we're trying to keep 'em from Daffodil here?"

Ray's mouth formed a round 'O' of comprehension as Janine chortled. "No wonder he reminded me of my nephew on a tear!"

Egon blinked. "I believe that would definitely be of the bad," he said, moving toward the door, Winston in tow.

Peter started, but made an effort to keep his voice smooth to avoid alarming the giant baby. "So that's what happened to my Buffy tapes! Hey, Egon, you join Ray in lusting after Giles' library?"

Ignoring that question as beneath his dignity, Egon asked, "What are you going to do?"

"Why, show him the way home," Peter answered brightly, then added under his breath, "I hope." He took another step closer to the baby, a larger step this time, and held out one hand. "Janine, honey?" he said in a silky voice.

"Yes, Dr. V?" She sounded wary.

"Make sure you have a good angle, just in case I'm wrong, okay? And Ray, keep your eyes open. They are open, aren't they?" he added.

"Gosh, of course they are, Peter! I wouldn't take a nap now!" Ray exclaimed as their secretary made sure Venkman wasn't in her line of fire.

"Just checking, Tex." The psychologist could nearly touch the yellow demon now. "Wanna go home, little guy? I'm pretty sure I know how to get you there."

He yelped when the demon's hand suddenly closed on his fingers. "It's okay, Janine, Baby Ugly just doesn't know his own strength," he said hastily, prying gently at the demon's hand to get it to loosen up just a little.

"You sure, Peter?" asked Ray.

"No prob, Ray." He turned slightly and tugged experimentally. "This way, little fella." Within seconds he was leading the baby demon over to the ballroom door and out into the hallway.

"Hmm," he said. "Somehow I don't think our yellow-bellied sapsucker is going to fit in the elevator. Which way are the stairs?"

"I think they're at the other end of the hall," Ray told him.

"Of course they are," said Peter. "And with my luck, they won't go down to the basement and I'll have to lead Demon Lite here through the lobby," he added as he headed slowly down the hall, still leading the demon, Janine and Ray following behind.

For some reason, the demon seemed to balk at the stairs, and Peter had to coax it to take the first step. Suddenly, it sat down, pulled the psychologist into its lap and bounced down the steps on its butt.

"Dr. V! Are you okay?" demanded Janine, hurriedly following them down, with Ray moving only a little more slowly behind her. As she came down beside the smiling demon child, she noticed that Peter's face looked a little green.

He patted the yellow scaly thing and stood up. "Wasn't that a fun ride." He looked around. "Door to lobby," he read off a sign. There were no more stairs going down. "Now how did I just know that." He took the demon's hand again and tugged it toward the door. "Uh, Ray?"

"Yes, Peter?"

"Wanna go out there and warn them not to run screaming or anything? We don't want to upset the baby."

"Good idea." Ray ducked through the door, heading for where Alberta stood with a small clutch of people on the other side of the wide lobby and letting the door close behind him.

"How ya doin', little guy?" Peter said. "Ready to walk through the lobby with me? Don't worry about the people, they're just as scared of you as you are of them." He closed his eyes as his stomach lurched. The demon peered at him.

"Dr. V?"

"Ready, Janine? I'm really hoping Alberta has Arbuttnot under control."

She giggled as he deliberately mangled the man's name, putting the emphasis on the middle syllable. "Ready as I'll ever be. You?"

"I was born ready," he retorted. "Open the door and stand back."

There were a few shrieks as they entered the lobby, despite Ray's warning and explanation of what was going on, and Jason Arbuthnot made several loud, disdainful remarks before Alberta succeeded in reining him in.

"Stairs to the basement?" Peter asked Ray, who pointed to a door near the elevators. "I'll have you know I am not looking forward to another ride," he added, only loud enough for Janine to hear. She struggled not to laugh.

They went through the door to the stairwell and Peter really tried to get it to walk down the stairs normally. The demon baby, however, had other plans, and immediately sat down to slide again, catching Peter close. "If this critter says 'whee'... "

Daffodil squealed all the way down the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs, Peter waved a hand in front of his face, then stood up and straightened his jumpsuit. "No offence, baby, but has anybody ever told
you about breath mints?" He sighed and held out his hand again.

The door to the exercise room was only a few steps from the stairwell. Peter led his large yellow charge back to where it had first started its rampage.

"Ah, Peter, your timing is most propitious," Egon said without looking up from his P.K.E. meter. "Direct your attention to the back wall, please."

As Peter peered through the tumbled exercise equipment in the direction Winston was pointing his thrower, he could see something odd and hazy about the far wall. As he carefully led the demon offspring through the maze of tipped-over weight machines, a short vertical line appeared in that same spot. Within seconds, the line began widening and deepening, then a large yellow-green clawed hand came through the growing hole, as if to make it happen faster.

The baby squealed, heading full steam for the widening gate to its home, towing Peter behind it by the hand he had never let go of.

"Hold on there, Sunshine!" Venkman said in alarm. "Little Petey has to stay on this side of the wall, thank you!" He tried digging in his heels and pulling his hand free.

Unfortunately for him, the baby stopped abruptly and turned to look at the anchor which had been holding it back from a happy reunion with whichever parent was impatiently trying to push through a still too-small hole. It burbled at Peter, oily orange tears starting to flow again. Peter pushed himself away from the demon and stood up one more time.

"Nice going, Dr. V," said Janine. "Now you made the baby cry."

"Thank you for your support," retorted Venkman dryly. He used a more soothing voice to speak to the giant child. "It's okay, little fella. You can go home - right through there." He pointed at the gap in the wall
where another arm was starting to push through. "It's just that I have to stay here; I can't go with you." He succeeded in freeing his hand and patted the demon child on the arm, then gave it a small push in the
appropriate direction.

The demon baby took a step towards the dimensional gate, then looked back at Peter and held out a hand to him. Peter shook his head gently and made shooing motions. "Go on, Huey. Go home."

A bellow issued from the gate, shaking the room and its occupants. The baby squealed and ran, Peter forgotten. As it reached the wall, the gate briefly opened wide enough to let it through, then snapped shut behind it, leaving no sign on the wall that anything unusual had happened there.

Venkman let out his breath in a whoosh, breaking the sudden silence in the exercise room. "Now wasn't that special."

"That was terrific!" Ray exclaimed. "Wow, that demon baby really liked you!"

"Doesn't everybody?" said Peter, but it sounded half-hearted. "I have just one question."

"If you mean, does the gate appear to be permanently closed," said Egon, "the answer is yes."

"That's nice, Egon, but what I wanna know is - where's the nearest men's room? I've gotta barf."

********

Ray, Janine and Egon went back up the stairs to the lobby. Ray and Egon immediately headed for a cluster of chairs and sat down. Now that the excitement was over, they both looked tired and drawn.

Janine walked over to Alberta, who stepped forward to meet her. Jason Arbuthnot was nowhere in sight. "Where are Dr. Venkman and Mr. Zeddemore?" Alberta asked, frowning. "They didn't get injured, did they?"

"Nah," said Janine with a smirk, "the stomach bug just finally caught up with Dr. V. He's in the men's room tossing his cookies. Winston hung around to make sure he didn't fall on his head or something." Her face
softened. "The other three guys have all had it, so it was just Dr. V's turn, I guess. He'll be all right; they'll both probably be up here in a minute or two."

"I'm glad to hear it's nothing serious. I was afraid things might have gone awry with that - whatever it was," the raven-haired woman said.

"Actually, it was a baby demon, and Peter sent it home to its parents through the dimensional gate that had opened downstairs in the exercise room. The gate is closed now, so you shouldn't have any more problems. By the way, who do I give the invoice to?" Janine held out a piece of paper.

"I'll get that taken care of," Alberta replied, taking the proffered invoice. "You don't want Jason to get his hands on it; he kept muttering about deductions for damages."

"We didn't cause any damage," the redhead said indignantly, hands on her hips. "We stopped that baby demon from doing any more damage up in the ballroom, actually."

"I know that, and you know that, but Jason ... Well, Jason hasn't taken a sick day since he's been manager here, so he gets a little impatient with people who do. Which also means he expects any professional help he has to call in to be here about thirty seconds after he hangs up the phone," Alberta commented wryly. "And that's certainly realistic," she added with a laugh. "I wonder where he is, anyway."

A bellhop approached her discreetly, and whispered something in Alberta's ear. An ever-widening smile appeared on her face, but she only murmured something to the bellhop, who then walked away.

"What is it?" said Janine, curious about the smile and Alberta's dancing eyes.

"That stomach bug you spoke of? It's been making the rounds here as well. Jason, of course, was absolutely certain it wouldn't bother him." Her eyes twinkled. "That bellhop just told me that Jason wants the house doctor sent to him in this floor's men's room. It seems Jason is ... indisposed."

"It couldn't have happened to a better guy," said Winston, who had overheard as he approached the two women.

"Where's Dr. V?" Janine asked.

"Over in the chairs with Ray and Egon. We need to get this crew home. Pete's got it bad," Zeddemore replied, shaking his head.

Alberta reached into the pocket of her navy blazer. "Give him this," she said with a smile. "When he's up to paying attention again, I hope it will make him feel better."

Winston took it and laughed. It was a business card, with a handwritten phone number on the back.

(the end)