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All About the Anthonys	By : megabsupreme Category: +M through R > Real Ghostbusters Views: 1867 -:- 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-PART 8
- 9-PART 9
- 10-PART 10
- 11-PART 11
- 12-PART 12
- 13-EPILOGUE
- 5
- 6
- 7
G Com Command in . . . well . . . some big U.S. city that ain’t New York . . .

Things were slow on Jake and Eddie’s end of things too. Being as they were in a different time zone, it was much too early to be up yet.

Eddie and Kayla were in a mutual coma in their bedroom on the third floor. They’d spent every night that week up with their daughter, who had been suffering from an ear infection. Little Sarah was now feeling better, and her parents were now able to sleep for more than two hours that night.

Kayla Spenser, nee Kayla Martin, was Eddie and Jake’s childhood friend. They remembered the petite woman as a tomboy with wavy blonde pigtails who had been on their little league team and their peewee football team. It wasn’t surprising that she was an orthopedic surgeon. She and the guys had re-established their friendship when she had repaired Z.J.’s broken wrist and torn ligaments five years earlier. She and Eddie had always been closer than she and Jake. Although she was never actually Eddie’s girlfriend, they were each other’s first kiss and they’d lost their virginities together. They’d been too afraid to take their relationship any further when they were younger, but hindsight and regret can be very powerful things. Once the pair was reunited, they weren’t even dating for a full week before they were calling Jake and Jessica from Las Vegas to tell them that they had eloped.

Just downstairs from the Spensers, the Kong triplets and Sarah slept soundly in their rooms. Jessica had once said that there was nothing more fulfilling than to stand in the doorways of the four children’s rooms and watch them slumber peacefully. Jake tended to agree. If they were in bed, they weren’t causing bedlam.

Downstairs from the kids, on the first floor, Jake and Jessica were the only ones still awake. Jessica was lying awake in bed trying to finish something for work. Meanwhile, her husband sat on the couch in the living room, still very much in the doghouse, beating Eddie’s five-day record by a day. The last thing she’d said to him before slamming the bedroom door in his face was, “I wouldn’t want you to catch my cooties!”

Things had been pretty grim ever since, but he had to admit that Winston’s advice was genius. Since their phone call, he’d slept on the couch without argument, but each morning after Jessica left for work, he’d gone into the medicine cabinet and flushed a bunch of Aleve pills down the toilet. There were only two tablets left, and he knew Jessica was l awl awake, typing on her laptop. It never failed. Sleeping without him always gave her insomnia, and the lack of sex always gave her excess restless energy.

At about 5:30 am, Jake woke up and got up from the couch. He walked determinedly into their bedroom. He didn’t spare her even a passing glance. “Need something from the bathroom.”

“Mm hm.” She never looked up. She was sitting up against a massive pile of pillows, her fingers flying over the keys.

He pulled the bottle with the last two doses of Aleve from the medicine cabinet, and shook the pills into his hand. He then went back into the bedroom, his expression bland and unaffected. “There’s only two Aleve left. You mind if I take them or do you need one for your headache.”

She continued to type without looking at him. “Are there any more Excedrin left?”

“Lemme check.” He came back after a moment. “The bottle’s half empty.”

“Help yourself.”

“Thanks.” He went into the bathroom, took the pills with water and started to leave the bedroom. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, and spoke to her over his shoulder. “Try to get some sleep. I could hear you in here typing all night. You need your rest.” And with that, he left. Now if Winston’s plan worked, it wouldn’t be long before she followed him.

Jessica finished typing the paragraph she’d been working on and stopped to rub her tired eyes. That’s when three facts dawned on her inner investigative journalist. First, Jake had just taken a painkiller. He hardly ever took pain medication because he was a gymnast and in athletic shape, yet he’d just taken a double dose. Second, they were now out of Aleve. She had just bought that bottle a week before. If it was already empty, Jake must have been taking them constantly. Third, he said he’d heard her typing all night. That meant he hadn’t been to sleep either. “Oh my God,” she muttered. She leapt out of bed and raced out into the living room. She found him sitting up on the couch, his head thrown back, frowning at the ceiling. “Jake?”

“Yeah.”

“Sweetheart, are you in pain?”

He paused for a moment before answering, in mock reluctance. “It’ll pass.”

“Did you hurt yourself on the job?”

“No.”

“Then what . . .?” Her voice trailed off as he slowly brought his head up to look at her. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were cold. “Oh. It’s the couch.” He held her eyes until she looked away in shame. “Well, why haven’t you been sleeping on Fred? He’s usually your favorite napping chair.”

“When you and I argue, he always takes your side, so he won’t even let me sit on him, let alone sleep. The last time I tried he threw me across the room.” His butt was still smarting a little from that fiasco.

“Fred!” She walked over to the old recliner and kicked it hard. “Don’t do that to him! What’s the matter with you?!”

“Don’t get mad at him for reflecting your moods,” he stated mildly.

“Well, why didn’t you tell me you were so uncomfortable?!” she demanded.

“I’m nearly forty and six-foot-four. I figured you’ve gve guessed it. Besides, didn’t think you’d care.”

“Didn’t think I’d . . .? How could you think that?!?”

“Well isn’t that the whole point of my being ‘in the doghouse’? It’s small, it’s cramped and it’s massively uncomfortable to sleep in.”

She stared at him in shock. “You think I did this because I wanted you to suffer?”

“Of course.”

Her jaw dropped. “I can’t believe you think I’d wish harm on you.”

“Not harm, just discomfort.”

Jessica’s heart broke at his words. “I love you, Jake. If you get a splinter, I want to cry. I didn’t know you were in pain. If I thought for one second that you were the least bit uncomfortable . . .” She sighed heavily and sat beside him. “You finished off an entire bottle of Aleve in a week. I should have paid attention. And if you think I’d wish you discomfort, then maybe I’m not doing so good in the wife department. I’m so sorry.”

He looked at her and sighed. “No, you’re an amazing wife. I earned this couch trip.” Perhaps this had gone too far. Best to remind her that he was the one who had started all this. “I love you too, and I’m sorry about what I told Joey.”

“Yeah. I know. You told me.” She laughed humorlessly. “Funny how when I apologize, you forgive me instantly, but when you apologize, I always give you a hard time. I really need to work on that.”

“Forget it.” He pulled her against him, encircling her in a tight embrace.

“No. I won’t forget it.” She let out a satisfied sigh, dropping her head onto his shoulder.

He smiled to himself. He owed Winston a cold beer. “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” she replied.

“Why did you get so angry anyway? I was only kidding.”

“Because he didn’t know you were kidding. He believed you. You were teaching him to disrespect women, including his own mother. He actually told me I couldn’t scold him because ‘daddy said I used to have cooties’.

“Is that what happened?” Oh, he was a dead man . . . again. No punishment this time. Just sweet revenge, courtesy of one Dr. Peter Venkman. “I’m so sorry, Jess. I had no idea he disrespected you like that. I should take these things more seriously.”

“Yes, you should. And I should learn to lighten up.”

“That you should, as well.” He grinned and kissed her on the forehead.

She smirked at him and stood, helping him up off the couch. “Come on. Come to bed. Your grounding is over.”

He gasped in wide-eyed wonder. “Gee! Thanks mom!”

She swatted him on the rear as they went into their room together. “Now, I love you, I’ve missed you, and I’m glad to have you back in here, but I’m really busy and I have to finish this before work, so lie down and shut up.” She planted a quick peck on his lips and went back to work on her laptop, sitting up against her pile of pillows again.

Jake got into bed and propped himself up on one arm, smiling up at her. She was wearing his favorite sheer, teal nightgown that matched her eyes. Her hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail, the single silver lock making a strong contrast against the rest of her dark hairhair. That one thin lock of hoary hair bore silent testimony to what she had endured at the hands of the cult of Cthulhu. It had taken him years to get over that. Knowing that she thought it looked cool had helped a lot though.

As Jake stared at his wife seductively, Jessica ignored her husband completely. As could be expected, this didn’t sit well with him. He was glad to be back in their bed, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until they were both ‘satisfied’, so to speak. “You know, you really need to take a break from that.”

“I thought I told you to shut up.” She still didn’t look at him or stop typing.

He grinned. “I know. It’s just that you don’t usually make so many typos, so you must be pretty tired.”

Her fingers halted in mid-stroke. She glared down at him. “What typos?” she demanded.

He smirked arrogantly. She’d taken the bait again. “Well, for one thing, ‘traveled’ only has one L in it.” She looked at the screen, spotted the misspelling immediately, and corrected it.

“Well, even I can be allowed one little . . .”

“And ‘tandem’ is spelled with an E not an O,” he interrupted. “You were probably thinking of ‘random’. They’re not spelled the same.”

She fixed that one too. “Fine, now if you’re quite finished . . .” she began.

“And I don’t even wanna know what you were thinking when you spelled ‘privy’. There’s no E in privy! And what’s with the extra V?”

She snatched a pillow from behind herself and clobbered him with it. “Stop . . .” WHACK! “Reading . . .” WHACK! “Over . . .” WHACK! “My . . .” WHACK! “Shoulder!” WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!

He put his hands up to defend his face, but she just changed direction and hit him everywhere else she could. He finally got his arm around her torso and pulled her against him, pinning her arms. “Would you stop hitting me please? I’m just trying to help you!”

“Let me go, and stop bugging me! I’m trying to work, you backseat writer!”

“Look I’m just saying, you’ve worked too much tonight and you’re tired. It’s starting to affect the quality of what you’re producing. It’s time to stop. Take a nap. We’ll set the alarm clock for two hours from now, and you can work again after you’ve rested.”

“You don’t understand! I won’t be able to sleep with this hanging over my head!”

“Then just lie here.” He grabbed the laptop and put it on her nightstand. He pushed some of the pillows over to his side of the bed then leaned back against them and wrapped her tightly in his arms, cradling her head against his chest. “Nice, right?”

She sighed in frustration. “Too nice. I’ll never go back to work if I stay like this. And my brain is all wired and alert. I’m not even sleepy.”

“Yeah,” he laughed. “That’s ‘cause you’re horny.”

She sat up and frowned down at him. “I am not horny!”

He smiled at her and casually folded his arms behind his head. “Sure you are. It’s okay. I am too.”

She glared suspiciously at him. “You’re ALWAYS horny!”

“Guilty as charged.” He grinned. “But, it’s been nearly two weeks and you know that’s a long time for us. It’s only natural that we feel this way.”

“Yeah . . . well, I can control my urges for a couple weeks. And you’re not gettin’ any!”

“Did I ask you for sex? I just said you’re horny. It was an observation, not a request. Now, I’d be more than happy to help you relax with a little back rub and neck massage, but if you don’t want one, no problem.”

She stared at him wide-eyed. He was right, of course. She was so horny she could barely see straight, but no way was she going to admit it to him. If they did anything now, she’d never get her work done. The neck rub however, sounded like a nice way to release some pent-up tension. “Okay, on one condition. I want to return the favor. I still feel really bad about your back and I want to make it up to you. Deal?”

“Sure! Sounds like I’m getting the better end of the deal, though.”

She sat between his outstretched legs, leaning back against him. He quickly worked the kinks out of her back and shoulder muscles, saving her neck for last. As he kneaded her sore muscles, he planted light kisses all along her shoulders. It was a simple loving gesture that was unlikely to raise her suspicions. It had the desired effect, though. She muttered, “Fuck it!” and turned around to throw herself at him.

He let her push him back against the pillows and ravage his mouth. All the while, he was feigning surprise. She stripped him of his t-shirt and threw it across the room. “Don’t worry about your back. I’ll be on top.” She sat up, straddling him, and placed his hands on her breasts. He closed his eyes, unmoving. He just enjoyed the sensation of her filling his palms, her chest heaving in and out with her labored breathing. “God, I’ve missed you,” he whispered.

When he openes eys eyes again and glanced up at her, she looked as if she could devour him whole. She removed his hands from her chest and slowly pushed the spaghetti straps of her nightgown off her shoulders.

And then, the phone rang.

Jake was immediately reminded of another time that the phone had interrupted their lovemaking in a hotel in New York. His response at the time had been just as vulgar as hers was now. He smiled nostalgically and red fod for the phone, sighing. “I’d better get that before the Answ-a-Bone gets . . .”

Jessica snatched up the receiver before Jake could get to it. “Do you have any idea what time it is?” she groused to the stunned person on the other end of the line.

“Uh . . . I . . .” the man sputtered.

Jake took the phone from her and covered the mouthpiece. “Quit playin’ around! This is my job!” he whispered. He placed the phone to his ear. “Ghostbusters. Jake Kong speaking.”

“Mr. Kong! How nice. I’ve heard so muboutbout you and your colleagues, Mr. Spenser and Mr. Rhea. I say your secretary is rather rude. Seems like a common problem among you Ghostbuster fellows though, doesn’t it?” he laughed.

Jake frowned darkly. “She’s not my secretary, she’s my wife, and you woke her up at five o’clock in the morning. How did you expect her to sound?” He lied about waking her, but he was pissed at the attack on his beloved’s character. “And if you’re referring to Mrs. Janine Spengler as a rude secretary, I’ll be sure to tell her husband you said so.”

“Oh . . . um, sorry.” The man was sweating profusely now. He didn’t know Egon was the testy secretary’s husband. Not a good way to start a business relationship. “My . . . uh . . . m-my name is Quentin Randolph. I’m with the United States Mint. We have a bit of a ghost problem and we were hoping you could help.”
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All About the Anthonys