by Cindy Klawitter

Rating: Oh, what the heck. Let’s stick with that whole PG thing, just in case I lose control *rolls eyes* Archive: Yeah, I can do that... Disclaimer: *sigh* I don’t. Really. Never did. Again, really. Wish I did. But I don’t. So that’s that. *shrug*

Hmm... I think I’ll dedicate this one to my adopted mom (and my best friend’s real mom) Carolyn. She’ll probably never read this, but since I can’t be 100% sure of that, here goes. The title describes what she is for me, and I know she supports my writing 1000%. Thanks for being there, Mom!

"Not to be rude, but what are you doing there?"

"The others are off on a pizza run, so I thought I’d hold down the fort instead of turning the machine on. Just didn’t feel like going out."

"Something wrong?"

"Not really. Just enjoying the lack of calls."

"After three busy months, I can understand that. There are times I don’t understand where we find time to breathe during runs like that."

"I hear you there."

"So how long do you think the quiet spell will last?"

"Well, we’ve made it a week now, I think we’ve got some more reprieve coming." Pause. "Oh, stop smirking. We do!"

"Sure. Keep talking like that and it’ll end faster than you can say vacation."

"Jinx us why don’t you?"

Laughter. "I don’t mean to. Just going on what seems to happen every other time. And you know it."

Long pause. "Hey, Janine, do you ever think what your life would be like if you had never met those three crazy scientists?"

The redheaded woman cocked her head to the side as she contemplated the lean black man leaning back in the chair behind her desk on the ground floor of Ghostbuster Central. "Every now and again. I figure I’d have a boring job as a receptionist for a boring executive somewhere. I probably wouldn’t like my job, my co-workers, or my boss, but it would be a steady paycheck. As much as I gripe, I know full well I got lucky when Peter hired me. My mother doesn’t always think so, but I don’t think she’d be satisfied no matter what I was doing." She narrowed her bright blue eyes slightly. "What about you?"

"I probably would have sucked it up and kept working for my dad in construction. I wouldn’t be happy either, not like I am now. But then again, I wouldn’t know I could be happier, have friends that are as close as family. Heck, I might just have a family. But that’s not how things turned out, and this is the life I’ve got."

"Winston," Janine said seriously, "what brought this on? Is everything okay?"

The man stood abruptly and began to head for the door after switching on the answering machine. "Walk with me," he said shortly.

The secretary scrambled to catch up after tossing her purse into a desk drawer and locking it. "Hold on a second, Winston. I’m coming!"

The two of them headed to the street and began walking north. "Where are we going?" Janine asked breathlessly, more out of surprise rather than overexertion. The tense man merely shrugged as he stuck his hands in his jeans pockets and continued on.

"Oh, you are *not* getting off that easily," she grumbled. "Something’s bothering you, something big, and I want to know what it is *now*!"

Winston stopped suddenly and looked back the two blocks they had walked at the barely visible no ghost sign above the door at home. He then looked down at Janine’s feet, taking note of the low green pumps she wore that went with her mint green pants and jacket. He nodded and continued on silently.

"Winston!" Janine exclaimed in frustration, scrambling once again to keep up.

She caught up just as Winston succeeded in flagging down a taxi. "There’s something I think we should both see," he said as he held open the door for her. She merely blinked, confused, as she accepted the invitation, followed shortly by her friend.

"What are you talking about?" she asked quietly once he had shut the door.

"Columbia University, please," Winston told the driver politely, and the car took off. "I meant what I said," he said to the woman seated next to him. "There’s something we should both see."

"You’re not making any sense. And aren’t the others going to be worried when neither one of us is there when they get back?"

"We won’t be gone long enough for them to get really worried. At least, I don’t think so. Besides, I’ve got my cell phone on, so if they’re really that concerned, they can call. I told Pete I wasn’t in the mood for pizza anyway."

"That’s it! You’ve just joined the ranks of men who can truly confuse me in a matter of seconds. I thought better of you, Winston. I really did." She crossed her arms over her chest huffily, although the corners of her mouth were twitching slightly to go along with the twinkle in her eyes.

"I’ll explain it all, I promise. Just... not right now." He smiled at her briefly, then turned his attention to the passing cars and buildings outside their vehicle, his eyes focused on something beyond them.

The rest of the ride was silent, Janine spending about half of it watching her companion, and the other half mimicking him, staring out the window lost in thoughts of her own. Both of them finally returned to earth when the taxi came to a halt at their destination. "Here ya go, folks," the man said gruffly. "Columbia University."

Winston thanked him as he paid the fare, and the two of them climbed out onto the street. The black man watched the car disappear into traffic and finally turned around to take in the campus. "Nice looking school," he commented.

"I knew that," Janine said shortly. "Why are we here?"

"Their office was in Weaver Hall, right?" the tall man said as he began walking toward the buildings.

"Are you going to answer my question?" the secretary shot back, annoyed, as she barely kept up with him.

"Is that it?" he responded, pointing at one structure in particular.

"Why do I feel like I’m on Who’s Line Is It, Anyway?" she grumbled under her breath. "Yeah, that’s it. At least it looks like the right one from their pictures. I’ve never actually been on campus before. What’s the point?"

He finally stopped his breakneck pace at the base of the long flight of concrete stairs leading to their scientist friends’ former office. "This is where they always say it all began. Everything we are today started here, on this campus. Peter and Egon met during Pete’s freshman year, and then Ray got into the mix a couple years later. I... just thought I needed to see it. And when you walked in, I knew you needed to see it, too. Put things in perspective."

"That’s just the beginning, right? Because that makes things about as clear as mud."

Winston began climbing the stairs, forcing Janine to follow to continue the conversation. "Those guys really think it all started here. And something important did. But I’ve noticed that people tend to miss the real turning points in their lives. I’m sure I have. You know that TV series Quantum Leap? They had it right. It’s usually the smallest things, things you overlook, that make the big difference." He paused as the pair reached the top of the stairs and gazed at the double doors that led inside. "They learned the skills they needed to make it in the business we’re in. They learned who they could count on no matter what. Important stuff." He stepped forward, pushed the doors open, and walked inside, heading immediately for the basement.

The redhead scrambled to keep up once again. "You know, you may be completely used to these sudden stops and starts, but some of us travel at a normal pace!"

He turned and smiled at her. "Sorry about that. Just going where and when the mood moves me."

She sighed. "I suppose I can forgive you this time. But watch it from now on, okay?"

"Gotcha, little lady. This is it, isn’t it?"

Janine looked where the black man at her side was pointing. "I think so. Boy, that’s a blow, isn’t it? ‘Student Labs’. Peter’d be having a conniption fit right about now if he saw it."

"That’s an understatement. Look at how he blew up over what happened to his little zapping device when Ray told him he saw it at the psychic fair. I think we can be glad that guy was nowhere near the firehouse."

"Hmm." The petite woman tapped her finger on her chin as she thought. "I think it was more the guy that had it than that someone else was using the box. I caught him looking through a bunch of his psychology journals a couple days after that. That’s when the real explosion started."

"I’ll keep that in mind." They stared at the Student Lab door for a couple minutes before Winston spoke again. "Why don’t we get going? There’s a few more things we need to see."

He grinned. "That enough warning for you?"

"Yes, thank you," she responded primly, a twinkle in her bright blue eyes. The friends turned and left the building.

They had walked past the apartment the guys had shared as they finished up college before grabbing another taxi. To Janine’s surprise, they didn’t head back to lower Manhattan, but instead drove over the bridge and ended up in the Bronx. "Aren’t we going home yet?" she asked as they started across.

Winston shook his head. "Not yet. What were you thinking about while we were on campus and walking by the guys’ apartment?"

She blinked in surprise. "Well, I thought about how cool it would have been to know them then, and what the campus was really like, their stories aside." She paused. "And... I wondered how they got there. Like you were saying. What little event made them decide to go to Columbia University right at that time. What made the difference for them."

The smile that split the dark face lit up the backseat. "There you go, Janine. Have any theories? I have a couple, but that doesn’t mean I’m right."

"I might have a few, but I want to see where we’re going before I share. I just can’t wait to see what the conclusion to this little walking thesis is going to be. Life’s Big Lesson." She smiled and nudged him in the ribs playfully. "By Dr. Winston Zeddemore."

He grinned in return. "Don’t make me tickle you, girlfriend. Because I’ll do it. See if I don’t."

"Point made, point made," she said hurriedly, giggling and bringing her hands up to guard against the threatened attack.

"We’re here, folks," the cabby interrupted gruffly. He barely spared them a look in his rear view mirror. Winston paid the man and the pair got out. The door had barely shut when the yellow car tore off into traffic once more.

"Friendly guy," Janine said sarcastically, coughing as she waved the cloud of exhaust out of her face.

"Come on," Winston said shortly after getting his bearings. He grabbed the woman’s wrist and pulled her along as he headed down the street.

"Do I get a hint where we’re going this time?"

"Further into the past."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "That’s not much of a hint."

"It wasn’t much of a question."

"Someone’s been hanging around with Peter too long again."

"Not my fault your reception area shares ground floor space with Peter’s office. Talk to him." He flashed her a grin as they stopped in front of a small house.

"Oh, you..." Her tirade cut off as she finally realized where they were. "Hey, isn’t this Ray’s house? The one his parents left him?"

"And the one that provided the starting capital for the business. Yeah, it is. Luckily I still have a copy of the key from when Ray was thinking about renting it out. He wanted me to take a look at the place and see if it needed any work since he and Egon were in the middle of the work with the destabilizer if I remember right. Let’s go inside."

"Why didn’t he rent it? I don’t remember ever hearing about how that turned out," Janine asked as Winston unlocked the door and they crossed the threshold.

"He couldn’t do it. He was born here, and his parents left him the house. He had a long talk with Peter about it, and finally decided just to leave it. He always has the option if money becomes an issue, or if he needs somewhere to stay." The black man shrugged. "But that’s past history, and not the history I’m worried about. This is where one of those ‘little turning points’ happened. Well, kind of. Ray was, what, nine when his parents died?"

"I think so... Yeah, he was nine. He said he had just had his birthday a few weeks before."

"As bad as that time was, I think that’s what started Ray down the road he’s on today. His Aunt Lois couldn’t take him in since she had been recently widowed, and his cousin Sam’s family had too many foster kids living with them as it was. So he was put into foster care, hoping someone would end up adopting him."

"I know all this, Winston. What’s the point?"

"That’s how he ended up in Morrisville, and overachieving so he could get a scholarship so he could go to college with a full ride - the only way he was going to be able to afford it. And he picked Columbia for the great engineering program and the fact that they offered a parapsychology program. Thus bringing Ray into the circle." Winston’s eyes grew distant as he gazed around the house, not seeing the sheet-covered furniture and bare walls. "He may have ended up there anyway, since he said he’s always been interested in the occult and the supernatural. But we’ll never know. All we do know is that it worked out the way it happened, and the lynch pin was his parents' death." He shook his head. "A horrible way to go about it, but I suppose God has his reasons." He slowly turned and headed for the door.

Janine remained silent out of respect for her friend’s obviously somber reflections. They walked south down the street together, the conversation stilled and both companions lost in their thoughts. Finally Winston came out of his reverie and flagged down yet another taxi.

"Where to now?" Janine asked once they were inside.

"Brooklyn," Winston answered shortly, then leaned forward and told the driver the exact address.

"Brooklyn?" the redhead mused for a moment. Then it hit her. "Peter! This is Peter’s, isn’t it?"

He smiled at her. "You’re catching on, Janine. So what do you think the big moment was?"

She thought about it as the car weaved in and out of traffic. "Well, I don’t think it was his mom’s death. That happened while he was in college. It’s too bad. I would have loved to have met her. Hmm..." She tapped her chin. "I don’t think it was those summers with the carnival. I get the feeling it was before that..." Tap, tap, tap. "The first missed Christmas? Nah, that’s not it..." Tap, tap, tap.

While she thought, the taxi approached their destination. The vehicle came to a stop, Winston paid the driver and pulled Janine out of the car, and the both of them stood on the sidewalk for a few minutes before the secretary finally snapped her fingers and looked up triumphantly. "I got it!" she cried. "It was the last day of sixth grade, when Peter’s dad was supposed to pick him up so they could get his mom and the three of them could go on vacation the way they’d been planning for months. But Charlie never showed. Finally Peter’s mom came by about eight o’clock that night to tell him about the call she had just got saying his dad wouldn’t be able to make it and they wouldn’t be able to take that vacation. He didn’t exactly say so, but I think that’s when some part of him decided he didn’t want to be like his dad. He *did* say - if not directly - that’s when he realized he wanted to study psychology. I think he wanted to understand why someone would do that to their own child." She scowled. "I wouldn’t mind knowing that either. Mr. Venkman drives me crazy, that way he treats Dr. V."

"One step ahead of me, little lady." Winston grinned and crossed his arms over his chest.

Janine finally took note of their location. "Peter’s grade school! Oh! So I guess that’s what you were thinking, too, huh?" She blushed slightly.

"Pretty much. That only leaves one mad scientist to contend with, but we’re not going to Ohio for this one."

Janine’s eyebrows shot up. "You mean it happened here?"

Winston laughed. "No, not that. Just that I don’t think it’s quite *that* necessary to see it in person to get the point. I’ve got you thinking in the right direction. Let’s talk about it."

"Alright." She eyed him up speculatively. "You’re not thinking the Bogeyman, are you?"

"Nope." He offered his arm, and the two of them started walking again. "A little later than that."

"Hmm." Janine bit her lower lip as she thought, finally crossing her arms over her chest. "Are you thinking of the time he burned down the garage?"

Winston nodded approvingly. "You got it. His dad didn’t handle that the way most parents would have, you have to admit."

"Well, no kidding. Of course, Egon’s dad didn’t handle almost anything the way a normal parent would have. I know I would have been confused if I’d heard a kid from down the street getting screamed at for doing the same thing a week earlier, and then got a lecture on lab techniques for it."

"I’m not sure that’s it exactly." The black man shook his head slowly as he stuck his hands in his jean pockets. "His mom gave him a pretty traditional lecture. You know, the whole ‘you have to be more careful because I don’t want to see you hurt’ thing. But when she stood him in front of his father and told him to tell the man what he did, his dad went off about Egon’s experiment."

"That’s right. Didn’t he totally ignore the fact that the garage was a pile of cinders and get on Egon’s case for copying one of his experiments?"

"That’s it. And then he said something about Egon having to find his own path, develop his own theories, and do his own experiments. I think that’s what made him start thinking he might be able to find a scientific way to get rid of the Bogeyman, so he was going to try."

"And he did," Janine said softly.

"Yeah, he did. One of the bravest things I ever saw, too."

"Okay, now we know where they came from. Why?" Janine tilted her head to the side as she gazed at her companion.

"I didn’t distract you from that, did I?" Winston asked a bit sheepishly.

"Nope," the redhead said cheerfully.

"My brother just got laid off from the job he’s had for the last twenty-five years. And because he never finished college - he and his wife had their first child during his sophomore year - he’s finding it difficult to get another one at anywhere near an equivalent pay. He’s got the experience, but not the piece of paper to back it up."

"Oh, I’m sorry, Winston. But why did that make you think of turning points?"

"His youngest son Noah, who just turned eighteen, is who told me this morning about the problems his dad is having. He said he was glad he was in college and there was no way he was going to stop until he had that piece of paper. He wasn’t sure he cared enough to finish, but when he found out the kinds of problems *not* finishing can cause, even when you have the experience to do the job, he decided it was more than worth his time and effort. I couldn’t help but think he might not have come to that conclusion if my brother hadn’t been laid off."

"And who knows what would have happened to Noah if he wouldn’t get his degree?" Janine offered.

"Exactly. And then I thought about what brought me to this point in my life, and even more importantly, what brought the other guys here. You walked in on the middle of that one."

"And here we are." She looked around the run-down street. "But do you think we could go home now? I think you’ve made your point." She smiled fondly at him.

He grinned back. "You got it, little lady. One home-bound yellow chariot coming up." He quickly flagged down yet another taxi and the pair of them headed back to the firehouse.

"Well, the guys are back," Janine said as she and Winston passed the Ecto-1 parked in the garage of Ghostbuster Central on their way back to her desk.

"And they couldn’t have been too worried, since they didn’t call." Winston shrugged. "Thus ends my little walking thesis. Satisfied with the conclusion?"

"To be honest with you, no. There wasn’t any conclusion. I know why you were thinking that way, but not what the final wrap up is. Why was it so important for us to know where the guys came from, where their roads started that led to the here and now?"

The black man’s brows creased in thought. "Let me see if I can get this into words." Both people missed the creaking of a chair from the office behind the filing cabinets. "We both come from traditional, presumably normal families. We stumbled across our jobs totally by accident. In actuality their turning points are ours, too, since they *made* this life, and we managed to fit in. I’m not trying to say we’re not important," Winston said quickly, cutting off the outraged retort Janine was about to throw at him. "In fact, I’d say that makes us even more important. Those three are scientists - even Peter in his own laid back way. We’re not. Except for our experience with those three clowns we’re just like regular people you could meet on the street. We keep them connected to the real world, remind them to think of those people who don’t understand what they do. They need that to keep it real, to show them what we do it all for."

The secretary smiled. "I think the other thing they need us for is to remind them that there will always be someone waiting for them who understands, who supports them one hundred percent, whether we understand or not. Considering the turning points we were talking about, that was a rare thing for all of them."

"I think you’re right, Janine. I think, whether they realize they do or not, they rely on us for that, for all of that. A lot of people may not understand how either one of us can fit into this organization and hold our own, but we do. That reliability is how we do it. They count on us, and we make sure they can." The sound of a desk drawer sliding shut caught the pair’s attention. Winston looked at Janine a bit warily. "You don’t think Pete..."

"He better hope not," she muttered, and slowly turned around and lifted herself onto her tiptoes, raising her eyes just above the top of the filing cabinets. There she saw Peter Venkman, his back to her as he leaned back in his office chair reading a magazine, his feet resting on the counter that ran along the back wall of the space. The observation that kept her from charging in there and taking him thoroughly to task for eavesdropping on her and Winston’s conversation was the pair of headphones that were clapped over his ears and connected to the CD Walkman sitting on the desk behind him.

She released a grateful breath as she lowered herself and turned around. "It’s okay; he’s got his headphones on."

"Good. Who knows what kind of ribbing we would have gotten?" The oldest Ghostbuster grinned. "Although he wouldn’t have really meant it. I think he’d understand exactly what we’ve been talking about and would agree. It’s just not like him to get all mushy about it, as he’d put it. Anyway, I think that’s about it. *Now* what do you think of my walking thesis?"

"An excellent piece of work, Dr. Zeddemore," Janine replied with a grin. "And we’ll just have to make sure we continue to make sure it’s true. Now go on upstairs. If you’re lucky, they saved you some pizza."

"And with my luck it’ll be Peter’s with pineapple on it. Thanks for listening today, Janine. It felt good."

"Anytime, Winston," she replied as he started up the stairs. "That’s what I’m here for." They shared a grin, then he disappeared upstairs and she dug into the work she had left behind earlier.

In the office behind her, Peter let his magazine rest opened on his legs and slowly pulled off the headphones. He gazed over his shoulder, smiling as he heard the distinctive sound of typing from the desk on the other side of the cabinets. He turned back around and shifted the periodical to the desk as he brought his legs down and leaned forward, reaching a hand under a pile of papers he had previously been resting his slipper covered feet on. He pulled out a CD case and removed the disc inside. He leaned back and opened the player, slipping the silver object inside the empty device and replacing the headphones over his ears.

"Reliability," he muttered under his breath as he adjusted his posture to what it had been before.

"Yeah, I’d say that describes them." He pressed play and went back to reading his article, a gentle smile filled with fondness on his lips.

The End (for now...)