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Oh Hell-y Night	By : megabsupreme Category: +M through R > Real Ghostbusters Views: 3857 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Real Ghostbusters, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-PART 1
- 2-PART 2
- 3-PART 3
- 4-PART 4
- 5-PART 5
- 6-PART 6
- 7-PART 7
- 8-EPILOGUE
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After a couple more hours of dancing, drinking and laughing, the party came to an end. It was another success, and a number of guests were already talking about ideas for 1991.

The band packed up and the singer came over to the guys to get his pay. Peter handed him a check and he smiled as if he were about to try to sell Pete the Brooklyn Bridge. “You know, that’s a great costume, but I think Janie does the look better.”

“Yeah,” Peter muttered noncommittally. “Well, thanks a lot and drive safe---“

“You don’t think I can say good-bye to her, do you?”
, I , I don’t think so,” Peter replied sternly. “She’s sleeping.”

The guy kept on talking as if Peter hadn’t said anything. “Because I think she was really diggin’ on me, and I’d like to get her number. Hey! Why don’t you just give me her number and I’ll call her tomorrow night?”

“What kind of all-day sucker do you take me for? Look pal, I was raised by Charlie Venkman, and once you’ve spent your whole life being conned by my dad, you don’t fall for shit like that so easy. You’ve been paid. You can’t have her number. Now get out.”

The guy frowned at Peter. “Fine. Thanks for the gig, Dr. Venkman.” He shook Peter’s hand, and Peter squeezed hard, crushing the man’s fingers.

“You’re welcome.” He let go abruptly and stared the man down until he got the hint and turned to leave. Peter went back inside to tell the other guys that they needed to keep an eye on Janine. “She’s got a potential stalker in that singer. He actually wanted m jus just hand him her phone number without even asking her! What a sleaze!”

“Yeah,” Ray said as he removed the last of the mood slime. “And let’s not even talk about how many Aerosmith songs we’ve heard tonight. Pretty desperate for a musician. Don’t they usually have their pick of women?”

“Nah,” Winston said. “The guy’s a glorified wedding singer. He’s probably just nailed the occasional homely bridesmaid and that’s it. It would be a dream come true for him to hook up a w a woman as hot as Janine.” Egon glared at him. Winston raised a brow at him and smiled teasingly. “What? You think she isn’t?”

Egon flushed. “Of course I think she’s attractive.”

Peter smiled devilishly. “I believe the man’s exact word was ‘hot’.”

“So?”

Peter’s face broke out in a huge grin. “Say it.”

Egon’s face got even redder, if that was possible. He frowned at his three best friends, then smiled innocently. “Say what?”

“Oh come on, Egon. Playing dumb just doesn’t seem sincere when it comes from a genius. Say it, Spengs. You know what we mean.”

He looked at each of them, grinning drunkenly at him in anticipation. He sighed. Maybe they wouldn’t remember tomorrow either. “Fine. Janine is hot. There, I said it. Are you happy?”

They grinned even wider. “Very.” Peter pulled off his wig and grabbed his sweats off Janine’s desk. He went to the bathroom behind his office to clean up and change.

“Peter, Janine was wearing those all night! She was dancing and sweating in them!” Ray exclaimed. “You aren’t going to wear them, are you?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Egon shook his head. “Venkman, you are an eternal frat boy.”

Peter smiled at his friend and replied, “Gee, thanks.”

Winston took off the blond wig and glasses, then pulled the suspenders off his shoulders, letting them hang at his sides. He started to unbutton the shirt when something occurred to him. “Hey, how are we gonna work out the sleeping arrangements? I mean, she’s in Egon’s bed. We can’t all sleep in there together.”

“Why not?” Peter yelled from his office, then burst out laughing.

“He’s right, Pete!” Ray yelled to the psychologist. “We shouldn’t wake her, but if we don’t where are we gonna sleep?”

Peter meandered out dressed in his sweats. “I dunno. All I know iat Iat I reek of a woman’s perfume, and I didn’t even get to first base tonight.”

The others all rolled their eyes at Peter’s typically sick sense of humor.

“We will wake her and move her to the couch in the rec room. I’m sure she won’t mind.”

“I’m sure she won’t mind staying where she is,” Peter disagreed. “I’ve been that drunk before, and it’s no fun to be moved. I say we’re all adults. She should be able to sleep in the same room with all of us and we should be okay with it.”

“And where, pray tell, am I supposed to sleep?” Egon asked in annoyance.

Peter gave him another devilish grin. “You’re both adults. You should be able to sleep in the same bed in the same room as the rest of us . . .”

Egon threw up his hands and stormed upstairs. “Fine. I will sleep on the couch.”

Peter, Ray and Winston laughed themselves to tears. A few moments later, Egon came back downstairs looking very pale. “Gentlemen, we have a problem.”

“Whassa matter, E?” Ray asked, smiling inanely at his own slurred speech.

“She’s gone.”
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Oh Hell-y Night