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It started out slow. He didn’t even notice at first. There were a few funny news stories. The odd flickering light in the lobby. An increasing number of spooky sounds— bangs and bumps and the like— coming from the law library. It took a while to notice the ad on TV too; Harry saw it probably twenty times before he really took note of it. And of course he’d seen the newspaper ads, sure, in passing. Hadn’t thought too much about them. It didn’t seem like a big deal until, all at once, it all became impossible to ignore. The news stories got more frequent, those guys from the ads were everywhere, and the headlines left the Weekly World News and landed on the New York Post, and then even USA Today. That meant it was real.There was absolutely, certainly, without any semblance of doubt, something strange going on in the neighborhood.New York City is experiencing a Ghost Infestation.Harry picks up a copy of Time with those ghost guys on the cover, and reads the article. Then he reads it over and over again. He tells everybody he can about it and keeps the magazine on the corner of his desk for curious parties to read. He picks up copies of any newspaper or periodical that had the word ‘Ghost’ on the cover and reads them too. He’s curious, and excited. Liking magic as he does, Harry had always found himself open to the supernatural. Not that those two things naturally go hand-in-hand, but for him they almost did. Maybe it was his lingering sense of whimsy and wonder. Isn’t a really good card trick about as good as a seance? He’d gone to a couple of those in his day, for fun, and had always, sort of, hoped that something would show up. Not that he really thought anything would, but wouldn’t it be fun to see a ghost? Wouldn’t it be nice to know there was something else out there? That there was something beyond? Wouldn’t it be so cool?Well, now ghosts were, apparently, showing up all over New York.And he hasn’t seen one.Not that he’s pouting about it. He’s certainly not disappointed that Bull came to work a week ago and reported, totally casually and totally unimpressed, that he saw a ghost gliding down Eighth Avenue eating a hot dog.That firehouse those guys operate out of isn’t even all that far away from the courthouse. Harry’s been half tempted— not seriously, but he’s entertained the idea— to go over and see if they’d let him tag along on a bust.But he hasn’t done that, of course. That would be silly. A silly, silly thing to do. Not becoming of the serious, important judge that he is. Especially when he has so much paperwork to get through.Mac had left him with a big stack of case files and bail reports after session, and now he has to get through them. He’s wasted more than enough time reading about the ghost infestation that’s suddenly emerged in New York City.11:45 pm and Harry’s still at his desk, not even halfway through the paperwork despite earnest efforts. He has a tiny portable TV propped up by the phone, not that he’s paying a lot of attention to it, more just enjoying the background noise as he turns page after page.It had been a nearly peaceful night— no terribly complex cases during session, no aggressive defendants, only one little hiccup where Dan slipped on something and went heels up. It took them five minutes to get him back on his feet and another five to get him to stop whining about what did I slip on? What was that? Oh god, it’s disgusting, it’s goo. And it’s all over my shoes.The courthouse has gone very quiet around him, very peaceful. There’s a rhythmic clunking coming from the hallway, but that’s probably the radiator. Otherwise it’s all the low buzz of the TV and the honking of cars out on the street, and the whirring hum of the fluorescent lights in the ceiling.Another nice, quiet night. Nothing to write home about.Until Dan comes lurching into his chambers, slamming the door open so hard it bashes against the wall and rattles Harry’s books. He looks bad. His hair is on end, his suit askew, and there’s a wild, frantic, horrible look in his eye that shoots a frightened jolt through Harry’s heart.“Dan?” Harry leaps to his feet. “Are you okay?”“Harry,” he gasps, sounding rough, like he just smoked a full pack of cigarettes. He’s clutching the doorframe like his life depends on it, his knuckles white and his feet wide apart. “There's something—" he pants, taking big, gulping breaths of air. "Something weird—" (pant) "In the—" (pant) "In the—“Rushing around the desk, Harry hurries over to pry Dan’s fingers out of the wood and help him onto the sofa, where he collapses.“In the what? Where? What was it?”“Some… thing…” His chest heaves. He’s pale, ghostly pale, like he’s just seen a— but it can’t be. Can it? Excitement replaces the worry in his chest. “In the cafeteria.”“Harry!” Billie comes careening in next, looking as ragged and ruffled as Dan, but with a wild fire in her eyes instead of the shock and terror that had come along with Dan’s entrance. She’s missing a shoe and runs over to him with an uneven limp. Harry wonders if she and Dan left at the same time and his long legs and securely tied shoes beat her here. Breathing hard, she manages to say, “There’s a thing! A monster! I don’t know what it is but it’s in the cafeteria and it’s awful!”“Awful!” Dan agrees with a huge nod of his head.“You’ve got to come see it!”Dan throws himself forward and grabs Harry’s arm. “No!”He whips away, pulling out of Dan’s grasp to run to his desk. He snatches up the copy of Time. “A ghost? Is it a ghost!?”Billie breaks into a big, wide, crazy grin. “I think so.”He looks down at the front of the magazine, at the three slightly schlubby guys in their coveralls. GHOSTBUSTERS: SUPERNATURAL SUCCESS STORY. The guy in the middle is smiling wide and Harry likes the look of him. He’s making ghosts look fun.This could be fun.“Okay,” Harry says with a giddy clap of his hands. “Let’s go.”Dan lets out a miserable, pathetic whine from the sofa, but heaves himself up to his feet even so. Billie kicks off her remaining shoe.Leading the way, Harry moves to the door. He rolls the magazine up, like a ghost would be as easy to swat as a fly. Billie tip-toes behind him, her hand on his bicep, moving silently in her stocking feet. Dan follows last, shuffling as Billie pulls him along by the front of his jacket.In this little chain, they make their way out of Harry’s office and into the hallway.It’s quiet, still. Then Harry hears it— a clanking of silverware hitting linoleum. There’s a loud rattle, like one of the glass and aluminum doors of the cafeteria being jostled open too roughly.“You said it was in the cafeteria?” He whispers back to Billie.“It was.”A shiver goes down his spine. A ghost. An actual ghost. Coming into his courtroom! And he’s about to see it!Easing open the door, Harry inches his way inside as quietly as possible. The lights are out and everything seems normal. Maybe it’s still in the cafeteria after all, or by the shoe-shine stand. He flips on the lights, as if that would reveal a ghost previously unseen.“Harry,” Dan mewls. “We shouldn’t…”“It’ll be fine,” he says. And he means it. He’s not worried at all. Admittedly, he isn’t exactly up on the details of the ghost reportings around town, but he’s sure he would have heard if a ghost had hurt anybody or done anything beyond causing a little mayhem. So he’s not worried. He’s too excited to be worried.As he approaches the rail, halfway through the room, the thing appears. It floats through the doors, leaving a wet stain behind it.“Ectoplasm,” Harry breathes in awe. How cool.The thing in question is definitely, as far as Harry is concerned, a ghost. It’s shaped mostly like a person, though distorted. A little too squat, a little too lumpy. It’s arms are too long and it’s legs too short. It’s glowing a little too, giving off a faint, greenish light, no brighter than a lightning bug.For a moment, the ghost floats in front of the doors, then it starts to go up and down the aisles of the gallery, looking around.Harry wonders what it wants. Is this a ghost with unfinished business? Was it someone who died here? Or down in the jail? Or a ghost that’s come all the way up from the morgue? Eighteen floors up seems pretty far up, but maybe it doesn't mind the stairs. If he could float around like that, Harry thinks he wouldn’t mind the stairs either.Somewhere in the back of his head, Harry wonders why all these ghosts have started appearing all the sudden, within the past few months. He grew up in New York, he knows that ghosts were never anything more than stories and jokes. But now they’re in the news and there’s one six feet from him, bobbing in the air like a balloon in a breeze.Now that it’s a little closer, Harry can see finer details. It looks like it’s wearing a flannel suit and bow-tie, both very wrinkled. Its face is wrinkled too, and it has a pair of tiny round glasses on its smushed nose. In fact, Harry thinks, it looks like an old man. A fat, sweet old man.Billie’s hand on his arm has gone very tight. Another hand has landed on his shoulder and is squeezing hard.“Sir, please…” Dan whimpers. It’s Dan crushing the life out of his shoulder, of course. He’s crept forward against Harry and Billie, putting the three of them very tightly together. Billie, trapped between their bodies, leans around Harry’s right side to keep her eyes on the ghost.“Oh wow. Can you believe this?”“Harry…”The ghost’s attention turns from the pews to them. Dan squeaks. Harry gasps.It's cognizant. It’s aware of them.“I’m gonna talk to it,” he says, hushed but eager. The ghost is almost intoxicating to him, it’s so bizarre and remarkable.“Oh no.” Dan’s hand leaves Harry’s shoulder and before he knows it, the warmth of Billie and Dan pressed against him is gone. He glances back to see that Dan has Billie around the waist and has dragged her back to the bench. In total awe and shock, still staring at the ghost, Billie has allowed this and is hanging in his arms, her jaw on the floor.Back to the ghost, Harry smiles. The ghost bobs in front of him, vaguely looking at him, vaguely looking through him. Can it actually see him?“Uh,” he tries, “hello.”It grumbles, bothered by the sound of his voice.Is the ghost getting bigger? The greenish glow gets brighter and starts to pulse.Clearing his throat, Harry speaks in a clear, loud voice. “So… you come here often?”Then it all goes sideways. The ghost starts making a growling, groaning, horrible sound that gets louder and louder until it fills the whole room, jangling the light fixtures and shaking the benches. Harry gulps. The smushed old man face starts to change— stretching and twisting, its eyes sinking deeper into the misshapen lump of its skull, its teeth growing, growing, growing, getting longer and sharper. Its hands turn into emaciated claws. The bow-tie, which had seemed so cute a minute ago, is now a writhing, snake-like noose.Frozen, Harry stares at this growing, glowing, monstrosity and can’t believe his luck.“Harry,” Billie hisses. “Harry!”For a second, the transformed ghost and Harry are almost nose to deformed nose. Something staticky starts to pluck at his clothes.“Uh—”In a heartbeat and with a room-rattling roar, the ghost lunges.Harry screams. Billie screams. Dan screams.Harry feels his feet skid under him, not getting traction for a horrible count of one, two, and then finally his sneakers catch the linoleum and he starts to move. He runs, as fast as he can. Dan and Billie have the same idea, and scramble towards the door in a flurry of limbs. Dan reaches for Harry and grabs him by his shirtfront, yanking him forward and shoving him ahead. They almost make it out, but get tangled up in the doorway shoulder to shoulder to shoulder.Wriggling, Dan turns his chest to make room, pushes at Billie and Harry, and shouts, “Move! Move!”The beast roars behind them, moving in thankfully slow, ungainly lurches, and finally their three bodies fall through the door. Together, they scramble across the hallway— Dan as much running as pulling himself across the floor by his hands— and back into the relative safety of Harry’s chambers.Harry slams the door behind them and locks it. His heart is pounding out of his chest and in a panic he moves the coat rack in front of the door too, like that would do any good. Like anything would do any good— Hell, they saw it float through a closed door not even two minutes ago. If it wanted to get them, it would get them.“Holy moly,” he gasps, “did you guys see that?!”Dan throws himself face first onto the sofa and gives a muffled, high-pitched sob.Billie stumbles towards Harry and pulls him away from the door. He holds her, keeping both of them upright on equally shaky legs.“My god, Harry! That was— that was—”“Amazing. Terrifying. Is everybody okay?”Dan turns his face to grimace at them, then flops onto his back and looks himself over. He’s in one piece, which seems to surprise him, but then he spots the wet stain down one arm of his suit. As he looks at it, his face blanches. “It got me! Oh god, it got me!”“Dan— Dan—““It got me, Harry!” He runs his fingers through the stain and makes a face at what he finds. It’s not blood; it’s goo. The same goo he’d slipped on earlier in the night. The same goo now decorating the big double doors of the courtroom. Ectoplasm.“It didn’t hurt you, did it?”Dan rubs the goo between his fingers. He scowls, disgusted. “It tried.” With a dramatic huff, he throws himself against the cushions. “I can’t work in these conditions. You have to do something about that thing!”Harry has to admit he’s right about that. They can’t have a ghost holding court in his courtroom. Or in the cafeteria, either. Or anywhere. No matter what, it’s got to go.A crashing clatter comes through the door. The ghost is wreaking havoc in the courtroom. Harry thinks he hears a sconce smash and winces.Billie presses her face against his chest. “It didn’t look like that in the cafeteria.”“It looked bad enough!” Dan barks. “But you two just ha-ad to go look at it. And you!” He points at Harry. “You had to talk to it.”Ignoring him, Harry asks, “What was it doing when it was in the cafeteria?”“Just looking around,” Billie explains weakly. “It seemed so harmless.”Dan’s voice jumps an octave. “Harmless!? It’s a ghost!”Yeah. A ghost. A ghost that’s destroying his courtroom and probably won’t leave on its own. He wonders how the day court would handle it. Maybe he should leave it to them. Or do ghosts only appear at night? That doesn’t seem true, but he doesn’t know enough about ghosts to know for sure.“What am I supposed to do? I mean, how am I supposed to get rid of it? I can’t exactly catch it under a cup and take it outside.”No one offers a suggestion, better or otherwise.Then Harry hears it from the direction of his desk: “Are you troubled by strange voices in the middle of the night?”Dan hears it too, and perks up on the sofa.“Do you experience feelings of dread in your basement or attic?” His little portable TV. He never turned it off when he abandoned his paperwork and hurried to see the apparition.“Have you, or any of your family, ever seen a spook, specter, or ghost?” Boy, has he. Boy, has he just seen the spook, specter, or ghost of a lifetime.Billie turns her face up at him. Harry glances towards the corner of his desk where the Time magazine had sat for a week. He’d dropped it in the courtroom. He must have, since he doesn’t have it in his hand anymore.
“If the answer is yes, then don’t wait another minute. Pick up your phone and call the professionals.
Ghostbusters.”
Dan moans and puts his hands over his face.The commercial goes on. Harry’s head has started to buzz and whir. Of course! Of course! This isn’t something he has to fix. He can call the professionals. They have a 24-hour line, after all. They’ll come and get rid of that thing and it’ll be an exciting story for Monday.Of course. Easy peasy.And he’ll get to meet them, and see how they work and how they catch ghosts and the whole process that he’s been so very curious about. So that’s an added perk.Three tinny voices ring out from Harry’s little TV on his desk. “We’re ready to believe you!”Harry looks from Dan, limp and pale on the sofa, to Billie, wide eyed in his arms, and says, “I’m gonna call ‘em. I’m gonna call the Ghostbusters.”“Oh, no,” Dan moans, putting his face back into the sofa cushions.Harry calls right away and talks to a very nasally secretary who, over the popping snap of her chewing gum, says, “Okay, yer honor, the fellas’ll be right over. Half an hour, tops. In the meantime, try not to antagonize the ghost.”She hangs up first, leaving Harry stunned and listening to the dial tone.Another big clatter comes from the direction of the courtroom. There goes a counsel table.“Why don’t we go and wait downstairs?” He suggests, eager to get away from the destruction he’d instigated by attempting conversation with a spirit. Everyone will feel better at ground level, anyway. A little fresh air will do them good.“Good idea,” Billie agrees.Weakly, Dan nods too.They take the back stairs down to avoid having to cross the courtroom to get to the elevator, and make a stop at the legal aid offices on the fourteenth floor so Billie can grab her sneakers. It amuses Harry to no end that she commutes in sneakers and changes into heels at work.“It’s just the reasonable thing to do, Harry,” she explains seriously as they circle their way down, down, down the stairs. “Otherwise I’d break an ankle running for the subway.”“I guess that makes sense.” He’d never much thought about it. He drives to work.The conversation makes for a pleasant distraction from the dizziness of eighteen floors. And from the ghost they left up above.In the lobby, finally on the ground, Harry discusses the situation with the lingering night guard at the door, who seems totally unfazed by the announcement that there’s a ghost on Eighteen and that the Ghostbusters are on their way. Just another day in the life of a city court official, Harry presumes. Well, he’s a city court official. He hasn’t had a day quite like this before. His head is spinning, and not just from walking in circles.Dan slips outside to have a smoke and Billie follows him. Harry steps out too, grateful for a breath of the fresh, crisp, October air.Dan’s hand is shaking as he brings his cigarette to his lips.“You don’t have to come back up with us, Dan,” Harry says quietly, just between the two of them. “You can go home if you want.”“No, no,” he shakes his head firmly. “I’ll see this through.”“If you’re scared—““I’m not scared!” He yelps. Not very convincing.“It’s okay to be scared. I’m a little scared.”“I’m not scared. I was surprised, that’s all. It’s not every day you see a… thing like that.”“No kidding.”“I’m not leaving you alone with it.”Harry blinks.“Billie will be with me.” Dan makes a face. “And the Ghostbusters.” He snorts.“Those jokers? Please.” He snorts again and takes a jittery drag off his cigarette. Ash falls off it onto his suit, and he brushes it away, leaving a gray smear next to the still wet ecto-stain on his sleeve. “Have you read about those guys? They were run out of Columbia. They’re nutjobs. They’ll probably blow the place up.”So Dan has been following them too. It excites a little something in Harry’s gut.Harry makes a show of hemming and hawing. He’s been pretty impressed with the press those guys have gotten. They caught a ghost in a Chinatown restaurant basement— one that Harry’s half convinced he’s eaten in— and one at The Rose nightclub downtown. Those were pretty well documented successes, with very little property damage.Dan takes a breath, glancing over at Harry. A funny flush rises in his cheeks. His voice goes quiet and soft. Low, he nearly whispers, “I just got used to you. I don’t want you to get blown to pieces.”Harry feels a flush in his cheeks too. “Aw Dan… that’s sweet.”“Oh, shut up.” He scoffs, then coughs a little on cigarette smoke. “You know what a hassle it is to break in a new judge?”Harry laughs. Dan likes him. Dan really does like him.“So no,” Dan continues with a wave of his hand and a playful, smug kind of smile, “I will not be leaving you unsupervised with three crackpots who run around wearing nuclear reactors strapped to their backs.”“And Billie.”“Right— Three crackpots and a crazy woman who’s excited by all this. Somebody has to be sane and responsible here.”“And that would be you?” Rarely has anyone described Dan Fielding as the sane and responsible one in any given room.Dan puts his nose in the air. “Yes.”Billie comes over, rubbing at her arms to keep warm. The night is cool and pleasant. Halloween is in the air. Maybe that’s why there’s been so much paranormal activity lately. Harry tosses an arm around her shoulders and takes up the duty.The three of them chat for a while about the infamous Ghostbusters. Dan snorts enough to fill a pig sty.“Who’s your favorite?” Billie whispers, jabbing Harry in the ribs with her elbow.“My favorite?”“Come on, you’ve seen their pictures. Didn’t you see that interview on New York One?”“I might’ve missed it.” He didn’t; in fact, he taped it.“I like the tall one. With the glasses. Spengler.”“Oh?”She winks. “He’s cute.”“You know, I wear glasses.” It’s a little silly to flirt now, but, Harry thinks, why not? He likes Billie. She’s only been working with them for a few months, but he hopes she’ll stay. They get along well. She’s cute and tough and brave. Her legs look as good in sneakers as they do in heels. And she likes men who wear glasses. What’s a little harmless flirtation amongst coworkers, anyway? No harm, no foul.Billie puts a hand on her hip and levels a playfully suspicious, warmly amused look at him. “You do? Since when?”“Since college. I need them for reading. And stuff.”“He does,” Dan playfully sneers; he scrunches up his nose and wriggles a finger in Harry’s direction. “And it’s cute.”Billie purses her lips, crushing a giggle. “I bet it is.” To Harry, definitely flirting, “You’ll have to show me those some time.”“Oh, sure, you got it.”Dan drawls, “Yeah, Harry, show us how cute you are. Billie, isn’t he so cute? Just the cutest little button.” He pinches Harry’s cheek and they all have a laugh. Harry manages not to be too embarrassed.It’s nice to flirt, Harry thinks. Harmless. Nice. Billie. Dan. He likes them both so much.His thoughts are interrupted by a strange, abrasive, distinctly un-American sound in the distance, effectively cutting off conversation. It gets closer and louder, then the source turns the corner with a skid and a flash of red and blue lights. The white boat— an old ambulance, Harry knows, though it’s huge, isn’t it?— comes careening up to the curb and slams on the brakes to park, very crookedly, against the sidewalk. The siren wail slows to a whine, then stops.Immediately, a man— a Ghostbuster— leaps out of the front seat.“Alright, citizens,” the man crows, swanning up with complete confidence, verging on arrogance. Harry reads the name patch on his coveralls: Venkman. Harry’s memory provides the first name: Peter. “Have no fear, the Ghostbusters are here.” He gestures, inviting applause from their little crowd of three standing on the sidewalk in the middle of the night. He doesn’t get any.The remaining two Ghostbusters come trundling out of the car. One comes jogging over, grinning with his hand outstretched, while the other industriously opens the back of the vehicle and rattles out a rack of complicated looking machinery. Harry leans to look, only to have his view cut into by Venkman.“Who called about a ghost?”“Oh,” Harry says, a little startled. “We did.”The second guy shakes his hand. “Ray Stantz,” the Ghostbuster says, offering his hand and introducing himself to Billie, then Dan. “Hi. Hey— Fielding… aren’t you that guy who ran for city council against a dead guy?”Dan blanches and Harry grabs up Stantz’s hand again, pulling him away from Dan’s mortification.Harry introduces himself firmly: “Harry Stone. I’m the one who called about the ghost. Judge Harry Stone.”“Oh, a judge! Great! How neat is that! Peter, isn’t that neat?”“Uh huh.” Who knows if Venkman would ever be that interested in a judge, but it doesn’t matter because he’s turned his attention to Billie, who he’s very interested in, given the way he’s shamelessly eyeing her up.“Now, Janine mentioned you’ve encountered a full body distorted apparition?”Venkman cuts in to sweep Billie away. She’s charmed enough by him, that’s clear, and maybe a little surprised by the attention. When he asks, she’s happy to explain her role in court.“That’s noble,” Venkman purrs at her. “I admire that.”Dan gags.Stantz still has Harry pinned. “Was it stretched or squashed?”“Does that matter?”“Well,” Stantz seriously says, “it might.”Finally, the last Ghostbuster makes his way over. He points upwards and flatly asks, “Is that it?”Six heads crane upwards. Their ghoulish ghostie is floating outside the eighteenth floor, still giving off its greenish glow. From this distance, Harry can’t tell if it’s still scary or if it’s gone back to being relatively cute. But it’s there, weaving in and out of the walls of the building. Then it disappears back inside and stays there. The greenish glow continues to show through the windows as it ambles around.“Uhm. Yeah. That’s it.”“Wow, exterior wandering…” Stantz beams. “That’s unusual. That’s very unusual.” He hungrily claps his hands together and turns back towards the ambulance. “Let’s suit up, fellas.”Harry watches on as the Ghostbusters put on their proton packs and hook traps and ghost detectors into their belts. It all looks so cool.“Hey, can I try one of those?”Venkman shifts his pack on his shoulders, showing off how heavy it is. He gives Harry a slow, very judgemental once over. “I dunno, twiggy.”“These are very serious, sensitive pieces of equipment,” Spengler says. “Legally, you’d have to sign a waiver.”“I can sign a waiver!”“A waiver means you might die, Harry,” Dan reminds him, which is, of course, true. The proton packs run on barely harnessed nuclear energy and twine. One wrong move and he could blow something up, including himself.“Aw, Dan—”Hissing, he adds, “A waiver means they don’t want to be legally responsible for your death.”Now it’s Billie’s turn to Aw, Dan him. “Don’t be a party pooper.”Dan throws his hands up. “Fine! Blow yourself up. Get vaporized, for all I care. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”“Let’s head on up, shall we?” Harry suggests, trying to defuse the tension. They’re all on the same team, after all. The anti-ghost team.“You folks don’t have to come,” Stantz says, gentle and firm, all professional strength and confidence. It rings a little false. “If you’re worried about the machinery. Or the ghost. We can handle it.”“We want to,” Billie insists eagerly. “If that’s okay.”Venkman grins, something very close to the leers Dan is so good at slinging. “Sure it’s okay, babe. I’ll keep you safe.”An exaggerated groan comes from the direction of Dan.“You too, Feldman.”“Fielding,” Dan grits through his teeth.“Right, Fielding, that’s what I said.” But Venkman has his hand on Billie’s lower back and is leading her towards the door. Stantz watches him go with big eyes. Spengler elbows him in the ribs and they start off towards the building too.“Come on, Dan,” Harry says, feeling left out. When Dan doesn’t unstick himself from the sidewalk, Harry offers a gentle way out. “Unless you don’t want to.”Dan shivers. He drops his cigarette to the sidewalk and viciously grinds it out under the toe of his shoe. “No, let’s go.”Harry hooks their elbows together. Leaning close, he whispers in Dan’s ear. “You don’t have to fake being brave here. It’s really okay.”Dan puffs up, then deflates. No one’s looking at them. They’re alone, with no one to impress or put on a front for. Harry feels Dan tighten his arm, pulling Harry tightly against his side. With charmingly false bravado, he puts his chin up and says, “Being fake is what I do best.”The ride up the elevator is easy— Harry’s not sure now why he and Dan and Billie took the stairs all the way down in the first place, except that fear drove them to keep moving. The proton packs hum in a way Harry finds relatively comforting. Billie has gotten herself away from Venkman and pressed against Spengler, who is looking down at her like she’s a very interesting fungus— which, coming from him, is quite a bit of interest indeed.“These are nice jumpsuits,” she says, toying with a zipper on his chest.Dan, crunched into a corner, clears his throat and asks, “You make money at this? Ghost busting?”Spengler answers: “Ray just got his house back from the bank.”“Well—” Stantz stammers, “I paid off the third mortgage anyway.”Dan’s chin drops and his eyebrows go up. “Third?”“Everybody has a third mortgage these days— Isn’t that right, Pete?” He lifts his chin around Harry’s shoulder to look at Venkman. “And I was the only one with assets, so it made sense—”“Ray—” Venkman sing-songs, cutting him off. “That’s enough.” He levels a dry look at Dan. “We’re doing just fine.”Harry adds, “I bet rent on that firehouse isn’t so cheap.”“We bought it.”“Oh. Well, real estate is always a good investment—““It has sub-standard wiring and serious metal fatigue.”In the silence that follows, one by one everyone turns to look at Spengler. He looks right back, uncowed by either Dan’s horror or Venkman’s annoyance.“You make it sound so nice,” Harry says, mostly to break the awkward quiet. “How did you get started at this? The paranormal stuff, I mean? I read about starting the business in Time—”Equally eager to change the subject, Ray answers, “Well, when Pete and I were at school together—”Just then, the elevator chimes like a death knell and cuts off all casual conversation. Eighteenth floor. The doors open. No one moves. The doors start to close. Stantz snaps out a hand to stop it. Holding the door open, he looks back at the group crammed in the elevator.“This the floor?”Harry looks out at familiar floor tiles and fluorescent lights and dingy walls. “Uh huh.”Again, no one moves. The elevator door makes a half-hearted attempt to close and is rebuffed by the presence of Stantz’s arm, still in the way. It’s like even the elevator doesn’t want to be on this floor, and doesn’t have any interest at all in coming face to face with the ghost.“Well…”“Well.”“Okay.” Stantz clears his throat and adjusts his proton pack on his shoulders. “Here we go.”Looking nervous, he steps out into the hallway. Like floodgates opening, everyone else pours through after him. First Venkman, then Spengler, then Billie, then Harry. Finally, Dan creeps through too.The elevator doors slide closed and the elevator itself escapes back down towards the lobby.The six of them stand in a fan shape, looking out at the dark and empty hallway. The ghost is nowhere to be seen, or heard. It’s all quiet. Too quiet. The dirty linoleum looks particularly sinister tonight, Harry thinks.“Where did you last see it?” Spengler asks. He seems like the most sure of them— which isn’t exactly comforting. Harry would prefer if all three Ghostbusters were confident. They seemed like cool customers on TV. Like the best kinds of exterminators. The kind who show up, take one look at the cockroaches building skyscrapers in your kitchen and say, I can kill that, no problem, without batting an eye.Instead he’s got three guys looking a little too anxious for his taste.“The courtroom.” Harry clears his throat, trying to be brave. And why not? It’s his courtroom after all. “Uhm, this way.”He leads the way around to the big double doors, which have a big, dripping slime stain on the outside to match the one he knows is on the inside.“In here?”“Yeah.”Spengler steps in with a petri dish and scoops up some of the gunk. “This is quite a lot of residue.”“More than normal?” Billie asks, pressing close to his arm to look at what he’s doing.“Normal is relative.”“Oh. Of course.”“Egon?” Venkman takes him by the shoulders and pulls him away from the door. “We can take samples later, don’t you think? Let’s grab this sucker first.”Spengler nods sharply and puts his specimen away into a pocket.With a deep, sharp breath, Venkman takes the door handles in both hands. “Ready?”Spengler and Stantz arm themselves; the proton packs and hand-held nozzles give an electric purr as they power up. It sends a shiver down Harry’s spine, and he thinks he sees Dan and Billie shiver too. Both of them step closer to him.“Ready.”Venkman throws open the doors and charges through with a bracing yell— but there’s no ghost. The courtroom is empty.It’s a total mess, but it’s empty.The Ghostbusters start to pick their way through the room, and Harry, Dan and Billie follow a few steps behind, just in case. The ghost has torn the courtroom to shreds, upending benches and chairs, scattering and shredding papers, leaving streaks of goo everywhere. There are smears of it on the walls, the counsel tables, even hanging in stringy globs from the lighting fixtures.“It’s not here,” Stantz says, sounding disappointed.“It could be anywhere…” Venkman’s disappointment is tinged with dread— this is a big building with a lot of floors. Some ghosts stay pretty centralized, Harry had read, but some wander. Theirs had already wandered outside the walls of the building. Who’s to say it wouldn’t go up or down?“We’ll have to check the whole building,” Spengler drones, looking closely at a wet pile of files. “Starting on this floor before expanding the search radius.”“Great. That’s great.”“We should split up,” Spengler offers.Dan immediately barks, “No!” With big eyes, he wheels on Harry and whimpers, “Harry, no.”Stantz does about the same thing ("Split up!?"), looking between Spengler and Venkman.Venkman shrugs.“Pete, I don’t know…”“Judge, what do you think?”Everyone turns to him, pinning him with their big, curious expressions.“Uh, I…” Harry hesitates— why is this his decision anyway? Shouldn’t one of the professionals be in charge of what they do? He glances from Dan’s panicked, desperately pleading eyes to Billie’s gleam of excitement, then over to Venkman’s louche patience and Stantz’s wide-eyed, earnest curiosity. Spengler is watching Billie, Harry notices. “I mean, I guess we’d cover more ground if we split up.” Dan hiccups in horror. “To start, anyway. It’s not that this is a huge floor but there’s plenty of nooks and crannies.”“You can show us around,” Stantz offers, glancing at Venkman for approval. “I mean, one of you with one of us.”“Yeah,” Harry agrees, swallowing down a nervous lump. It’s not that he really wants to split up, but it makes sense to do it. “Right.”“Okay, I’ll go with the judge.” Stantz steps towards Harry.“Right, good idea,” Venkman purrs, stepping towards Billie. She sidesteps him. “Or, wait—”“I’m with Egon,” Billie chirps definitively, rushing to his side and tucking her arm around his elbow. Startled, he blinks at her owlishly, then nods.“Pete, that leaves you and Fielding.”Dan and Venkman exchange a look, both clearly displeased with their pairing. Dan slumps against the remaining counsel table with a moan and turns his big, pleading eyes towards Harry. “Can’t I come with you, instead?”“It would really help if you showed him around, Dan.” Dan pouts, sticking out his jaw and furrowing his eyebrows. “The offices, you know. The closets.”The eighteenth floor does have it’s quirks— the window in the courtroom that overlooks the world’s smallest view of New York skyline, the particularly low ceiling of the hallway behind it, the weirdly shaped rooms and the odd angles of the hallways. It’s a weird place, and easy to get lost in, and maybe that’s why there’s a ghost in it. Most people who come to their courtroom are led, or only get off the elevator to step directly in. So few people venture beyond the cafeteria, even to the bathrooms. What’s beyond that little pocket (which, admittedly, Harry doesn’t usually wander beyond either, since his chambers are so conveniently located) is a confusing maze of small offices and unusually large storage closets. And Dan intimately knows each and every one of them, or claims to, having loudly and proudly stated his goal to have sex in every room of the courthouse.“The closets,” Dan gulps.“No one knows the closets like you do.”“Uh-huh.”So it’s decided.They split up.They don’t discuss what to do if the ghost has left the floor. The presumption seems to be that it hasn’t, or won’t. Harry decides not to question it. If no one finds it, they’ll all regroup and make another plan.Dan and Venkman peel off to the bathrooms, the closets, the narrow private corridors. Billie and Egon saunter away to the cafeteria and the elevator banks. Harry takes Stantz— Ray— off to his chambers and through to the law library and offices beyond.He opens every door with his fingertips and terror in his heart, sure that on the other side will be a ghoul ready to attack. Ray jumps through, proton pack buzzing and humming, ready to fire at the first sign of ghost activity. In the end, he only fires accidentally once, leaving a dark burn along the ceiling of Harry’s office.“Ooh, sorry about that,” he says, sounding genuinely contrite.“It matches all the cracks up there, really.” It doesn’t, but maybe now the city will actually fix some of the plaster. “It’s okay.”Thankfully, the ghost wasn’t there and wasn’t trashing his office. Having seen the mess it made of the courtroom, Harry would hate for it to be in here.However, unfortunately, the law library is a disaster. It’s been torn to shreds— the books and binders all torn apart and scattered.“Oh geez,” Harry moans.Ray starts nosing around like a bloodhound, picking up things that don’t look important in the slightest to investigate with utter interest.He doesn’t find anything— or at least nothing that seems like anything to Harry, and definitely not anything he can explain in understandable terms— but goes on searching without losing any intensity.“So you and Venkman met at school?”“Oh yeah,” Stantz says from inside a filing cabinet. “We were freshman roommates. Stuck together ever since.” He closes one drawer and immediately puts his nose into the next one. “I helped him pass his gen-ed’s. He helped me pick up girls.”“And the ghost stuff?”“Oh, that was more my thing. Peter kinda just tagged along.”“Sounds a little like you probably carried him along.”Ray freezes in his investigation of the room, and Harry thinks maybe he’s found something. Except when he raises his head up to look at Harry, he’s blushing. “Well… you know how it is.”Nodding, though he doesn’t really know what Ray means at all, Harry decides not to ask any follow up questions.He wonders how it’s going with Dan and Billie. He’s starting to wish they’d all stuck together. Not that he’s worried that the Ghostbusters, professionals that they are (though as he watches Ray sniff at an oddly trembling pile of ghost snot, he’s not sure professional is exactly the word), would let anything happen to innocent bystanders. His colleagues— his friends— are going to be totally fine, of course they are, but still he’d rather be with them. He felt a lot better when Dan and Billie pressed against either side of him. He’d liked knowing they were there. Together, he’s pretty sure they could face anything. Split up like this… doesn't feel so good.But a ghost can’t really hurt anyone, can they?“Hey, Ray,” Harry asks. “A ghost can’t really hurt anyone, can they?”Ray looks up from the snot, which starts to crawl away like a jellyfish inchworm. Harry shudders. It’s so creepy. “What do you mean?”“I mean… they’re a nuisance and they make a mess and they’re a nightmare on the electrical systems, but… they couldn’t do any… physical harm, could they?” The question he doesn’t dare ask in so many words is: if a ghost can shred a room, can it shred a person?The series of expressions that cross Ray’s face do not instill confidence. First there’s a blanching, caught-in-the-act sort of blank faced terror. Then a thoughtful, increasingly dread-laden internal interrogation. He glances around at the physical damage done to the room around them. Finally, he looks to Harry with a hopeful, weak, lie of a smile and an unsure twitch of his eyebrows.An octave too high, Ray manages a reply. “No?”As if on cue, a high pitched howl, a shriek really, rings through the eighteenth floor. Harry jolts: he knows that shriek.“Oh my god.”Taking off in a dead sprint, he goes careening down the halls. Turning a corner past the bathrooms, he slips in something on the floor— something ooey-gooey and slippery and thick— and goes flying. He almost loses his balance and splats onto the linoleum, but manages, right at the last moment, to grab the wall and stay upright. The lurch sends his heart into a vise and pounding like a jackhammer. Panting, he looks around to see what he slipped in.The streak of slippery sludge leads down the hall to where Dan is laying, flat on his back, spread eagle, on the ground. He’s soaking wet and not moving, save for his chest heaving up and down.“Dan! Oh my god, are you alright?” Careful not to fall, Harry hurries over and stumbles down onto his knees at Dan’s side. “Dan?”“He left me,” Dan says in a tiny voice, his eyes on the ceiling, not seeing anything at all. “He left me.”Harry looks around; Venkman is nowhere to be found. So much for the buddy system.“Are you okay?”Dan blinks. Finally, Ray rounds the corner.“Oh wow!” he says, bending in half to look at the goo trail that leads to Dan Fielding. “This is really a unique amount of ectoplasm! I mean, this is a lot! We got a wet one!”Dan hiccups a little laugh. “Goody,” he giggles, slightly hysterically. “A wet one.” Harry goes to put a hand on his shoulder, but… it is very wet. He manages to place what he hopes is a comforting finger on the only dry spot of Dan’s arm he can see.“Dan… What happened?”Dan’s eyes roll towards Harry. Flatly, he says, “I got goo’d.”“Pretty neat, huh?” Stantz cheerily leans into Dan’s eyeline. “Ectoplasmic residue left by collision with a paranormal phantasm. Colloquially we call it getting ‘slimed.’ Totally harmless, but it can feel pretty funky.”Dan turns his whole head towards him, his face totally slack, save for a little twist of disgust in his upper lip. “Thank you. I’m so glad I know that.” Pivoting back to Harry, he sweetly sneers, “Harry, I got slimed.” “I’m sorry, Dan. Do you want to get up?”A glob of gunk slides out of Dan’s hair and plops with a disgusting smack onto the floor.“No, Harry,” he deadpans. “I want to die.”“Why don’t we, uh… not do that.” He pulls Dan’s handkerchief out of his pocket and starts to wipe slime off Dan’s face for him. “There, there.”“It went right through you, right?” Dan shivers, which Ray takes as an affirmative. "Yep. This happened to Peter one time. Got coated in it. But good news is that it's water soluble and comes out in the wash. I mean, he had to really scrub it out of his hair, but—”“Okay,” Harry interrupts. “Thanks, Ray.”Dan moans, “Thanks, Ray.”Undeterred, Ray charges ahead. “Which way did it go? Where’d Peter go?”Dan’s head rolls towards the hallway beyond and Harry and Ray pivot to follow his gaze. Halfway down the hallway, a flickering light marks a half open door that Harry is relatively sure belongs to a day-court prosecutor. It’s pretty ominous. Verging on spooky. Ray gulps and adjusts the straps of his proton pack.“Okay. I’m going after it.”“Do you, uh…” Harry gulps too. “Want me to come?”“Nope, nope, you two… stay here, and I’ll just… go… catch a ghost.” He nods once and straightens up. “I’m sure Pete’s already got it, anyway. He’s good at this.”“He only got slimed that one time.”“Right. So. Nothing to worry about.” He doesn’t sound very confident, but he does start off down the hallway with a grim determination to his jaw. Before he turns into the office, he turns back to Harry and gives a brave little wave and salute. Then he’s gone, and Harry is alone with Dan, the two of them still on the ground.Trying to keep busy, trying not to seem nervous or worried at all because the last thing Dan needs is to be worried about how Harry is feeling, Harry dabs at a wet slime trail near Dan’s ear. He smiles, aiming for upbeat and unconcerned and certainly not disgusted by the viscous layer of gunk coating his friend. For a while, that’s all he does. Smiles and wipes away ectoplasm. Pretty quickly Dan’s handkerchief is saturated and all Harry’s doing is pushing the stuff around. Dan never tries to stop him, just stares up at him— or past him— and lets Harry do what he’s going to do. He must appreciate the effort though; his eyes go soft and dewy with each gentle dab.Using one finger, Harry pushes a wet strand of hair off Dan’s forehead. Maybe it’s just the unpleasant sheen of the fluorescent lights and the reflection off the ugly linoleum, but he doesn’t look great. He looks really pale, Harry thinks. Frightened and shaken up. Pale really is the word for it. Pale as a ghost.“Danny?”“Harry?”“What was it like?”“What was what like?”“The ghost. When it… slimed you.”“Oh.” Dan swallows and goes even paler. “It rushed me. It… It was all…” He makes a face and his hands curl into claws. Scary. “Its mouth was so big… I thought it was—” he laughs, a miserable, weak sound— “going to eat me.” The laugh turns into a shuddering sigh. “But it went right through me instead. Like being run over by a heavy fog.” He pauses, reliving the moment. “It was cold. And wet. And… I can’t describe it, but I thought I was dead. I really did, for a minute. Then I was on the floor and Venkman was gone.”Harry’s heart sinks. “Oh, Dan, I’m so sorry.”Dan’s big, wet eyes focus on his, and Harry feels even worse. “Huh?”“I should’ve sent you home. I knew you were scared. I never should have made you stay.”Dan blinks. “You didn’t.”“But—”“I wanted to stay. I didn’t want anything to happen to you. I would’ve been worried sick if I wasn’t here.”“You’re just saying that.”But he’s not, and Harry knows he’s not. They’ve only been working together for about a year and a half, but he knows that Dan cares about him. And sometimes, in moments like this, after something scary has happened or when Dan is a little out of his mind, he’s even honest about it.“Do you think I’m a coward, Harry?” Dan props himself up on his elbows to ask it, which puts him awfully close to Harry’s face.Harry shakes his head. Coward is not the right word. He thinks Dan can be a scaredy-cat, sure. He thinks Dan is spineless, sometimes. But he’s seen the way Dan can stand up to jerks and crooks. He’s seen how brave and bold he can be in the face of danger or embarrassment. He’s seen Dan swan up to the prettiest woman in a hundred rooms and ask her out, damn the consequences. No, he’s not a coward. He went off to face a ghost, even though he was scared out of his wits to do it. That’s not cowardice at all.“I think you’re brave,” Harry says, half whispering. Dan lifts his chin, and Harry becomes suddenly very aware that he smells like ozone. The ghost gunk smells like electricity and rain, and under all that is the low, warm tang of Dan’s cologne. “I think you’re great. I’m glad you stayed. I’m glad you’re here.”“Fun way to spend an evening, isn’t it? Getting scared to death and slimed and abandoned.” He rolls his eyes, his snide facade returning as he eases back towards his usual self.“Venkman shouldn’t have left you. That wasn’t…” It wasn’t right, it wasn’t nice.Dan shrugs it off. “No big deal.”Harry frowns.“Your guy left you too,” Dan says with a jerk of his head towards the doorway Stantz disappeared into.“That’s different. I was with you. I wasn’t gonna leave you alone.”“Harry…”“I won’t, either. No matter what.”They’re interrupted by a loud ZAP, followed by a crash, a bang, a series of shouts, more crashes. Harry catches a glimpse of Spengler and Billie as they appear at the far end of the hall, and then there’s a big whoosh, like hundreds of pieces of paper falling to the ground, and the hallway fills with dust, obscuring everything.When it settles, Harry realizes he’s thrown himself over Dan’s body. They’re still in the middle of the hallway, totally exposed, but Harry’s sprawled over Dan’s chest protectively and Dan has grabbed the back of Harry’s shirt and head, cradling him against his throat.“Jesus christ,” Dan hisses. Harry lifts his head against the resistance of Dan’s hands and looks down the hall to see a fresh whoosh of dust and papers come out of a doorway.“What was that?”Another whizzing crash-bang sounds. This time, Harry scrambles to his feet and drags Dan with him. They slip-slide down the hallway, tripping over each other and skidding in smears of slime.Tucked against the wall now, clinging to each other, Harry listens as something that sounds very much like a large bookshelf is toppled. “This is gonna come out of my paycheck,” he grumbles. It has just occurred to him that there might very well be a city policy about how and when to hire Ghostbusters. Maybe, like when he found a rat in his office mini-fridge, he should have referenced the city list of union exterminators on the approved list of vendors.“They have this under control,” Dan says, his voice cracking. He’s clinging to Harry’s forearms, squeezing hard enough to hurt. “Don’t they?”“Sure,” Harry agrees, even as another booming crash rattles the pictures on the walls. “Definitely.”“We’re not going to, uh, die here, are we?”“No.” Another crash. This one is accompanied by shouting. A tendril of proton energy whips out of the doorway and burns a streak along the ceiling. “I don’t think so.”“For the love of god, Harry—” He flinches against another crash. “I don’t want to die at work.”Forcing a smile, Harry turns to him and says, “Technically you’re off the clock.”“Oh, yippee.” Dan rolls his eyes, letting his head go with it. “I’m going to die for free, covered in sludge.”“Slime.”“Slime.”“And you aren’t going to die at all. Ghosts don’t hurt people. Ray said so.”“Uh-huh.” Something explodes and a ceiling tile falls onto the ground and dissolves into a puff of fiberglass dust. “Unregulated nuclear devices and falling drywall does, however.”“Okay, well, you aren’t going to die alone, anyway.” Half thoughtlessly, half deadly serious, he reaches to grab Dan’s hand.Dan’s head whips over to him, eyes wild. Harry almost recoils, he’s so surprised by Dan’s response. He didn’t mean anything by it, really. It’s more of a joke than anything, because of course neither one of them is going to die tonight at all. Then it occurs to him that maybe it’s the hand holding that’s the problem. Maybe it was a step too far, despite their increasing, easy flirtations over the past few months. So Harry goes to take his hand back.Except Dan won’t let him.Dan’s wet, sticky hand is holding onto his very tightly. Very seriously, his voice low and husky and almost breathless, Dan says, “Harry. Thank you. I mean, just in case, I want to say...”It’s the wrong moment for it, absolutely, but a crazy, intense, electric shiver runs up Harry’s spine.With his free hand, he grabs Dan's collar— what he means to do isn’t very clear, even to himself, but what he manages to do is pull Dan out of the way of a picture that leaps off the wall and crashes to the floor in a scatter of broken glass. Dan tumbles into him, and they slip, both of them sprawling down onto the tile. Harry feels the wet squish of Dan’s ecto-soaked clothes against his shirt, and beyond that the firm, warm press of Dan’s chest. The falling picture pulled loose a chunk of drywall as it fell, and as it gives up being part of the wall, it tumbles down and crashes against Dan’s back. Harry’s hands clench into his collar and shoulder, as if that would keep him safe.Dan blinks at him. He’s wet and slimy and now coated in dust. The hallway has gone momentarily totally quiet, but from his position on the floor, Harry can’t see anything that’s happening beyond Dan’s face above him. Even wet and rumpled, he looks so unbelievably great.“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Harry jokes. Dan laughs, a warm rumble that cuts through the both of them. “In fact, I think— I think we should—”Dan’s eyes go big— Harry can almost see the question marks in them.Another big crash interrupts the moment and now Harry can smell something burning, which he isn’t thrilled about.“I think we should get out of here.”Dan blinks, then nods quickly and starts to lift himself up— off the ground, off Harry. In his absence, the slime he left all over Harry’s shirtfront makes itself very apparent. “Yuech,” he groans, running his hands over his wet and now quite ruined hand-painted silk tie. Dan makes an apologetic, sympathetic face and helps him up and together they inch down the hall, heads down and clinging to each other for balance. Dan’s slick dress shoes keep sliding in the slime, and Harry isn’t having much better luck.But somehow, despite the wet spots on his shirt and the courthouse crumbling around them and the horrible headache he knows he’s going to have from all the paperwork he’ll have to fill out after this, Harry feels lighthearted and almost giddy as he and Dan skate their way out of danger nearly hand in hand.“Sorry about your shirt, sir,” Dan says as they turn a corner.“Don’t worry about it.” So his clothes are dirty, so what? Dan’s suit is in worse shape than Harry’s shirt; it’s probably going straight into the trash. And, really, isn’t a little ghost slime the coolest way a shirt could get messed up? So a ruined shirt doesn’t mean anything at all to him. In reality, the only thing that really matters is that Dan’s okay— That they're both okay. And together. That they're all okay. Which reminds him— “Hey, do you think Billie’s okay?”“You ask that like she isn’t definitely in the thick of it.”Together, they lean around the corner to look and, as if prompted, Billie appears from the smoking doorway and comes running down the hallway, her hair standing up like she’s been electrocuted and both fists in the air.“WE GOT IT!” She shouts, hollering and pumping her fists in the air like her team just won the world series. She runs over to them, her sneakers squeaking. “Harry! Dan! We got it! We caught it!! Oh, it was the most exhilarating thing— it was so fantastic—” She grabs Harry by the sides of his face and plants a big smackeroo of a kiss onto his cheek. While he’s still reeling, she does the same to Dan, completely ignoring his coating of ghost goop. “This was the best night! Look, look—!”She points behind her, towards three Ghostbusters strutting down the hallway. Ray is in the lead, carrying a smoking ghost trap in one hand. Next to him, Venkman has an arm slung around Stantz’s shoulders and is grinning. He has a dainty smear of ghost residue on his arm. On the other side, Spengler is juggling a few sample trays and a ghost detector, which has gone thankfully dark and silent. He catches sight of Billie and blushes.Billie shrieks with delight and runs to him, flinging both arms around his neck.Venkman sighs heartily and rolls his eyes. Spotting Dan, he has the audacity to wink at him.“Hey, Fielding, good to see you back on your feet, pal.”Dan puffs up like an annoyed cat. “Is it? After you left me like that?”“I knew you were fine.” He shrugs and punches Dan in the shoulder as he comes up beside him. “I’ve been slimed. It’s no big deal.”“No big deal?” Dan sputters. He gestures desperately at his suit, his hair. “No big deal!?”“You’re fine, aren’t you?”Dan’s mouth falls open like a dead fish. “That’s not— that’s not the point—”“Don’t be a baby. It washes out. You’re not hurt.”“That’s what I said,” Ray chirps.“Hey, atta boy,” Venkman grins, pulling Ray close against him. He grinds his knuckles into Ray’s scalp, playful. As Ray blushes and ducks his head, Harry watches Venkman take the opportunity to press a kiss into Ray’s hair. “Great job, Ray.”He beams. “Thanks, Pete.”“So you caught it?” Harry leans in to ask.Ray lifts the still-smoking trap with a grin. “You bet.”“Do I want to know the state of the office you got it in?”Venkman swans forward to slip an arm around Harry’s shoulders and direct him away from the scene. “Probably not. You know, we didn’t discuss a fee—”“Yeah, about that, I think you’ll have to submit an invoice to the city—”It takes twenty minutes to come to an agreement on that front. During that time, Dan plops onto a bench and rests his head in his hand. Ray sits next to him with the ghost trap in his lap and yaps in Dan’s general direction. Harry doesn’t hear any of it, but he assumes it’s about the trap mechanism. Or maybe, he thinks as he sees Ray gesture at Dan’s wet clothes, it’s about his theories on why this ghost was particularly wet. It doesn’t seem to be lifting Dan’s mood any.As for Billie and Egon? They disappeared and have not been seen since. Probably making out in a storage closet, Harry figures, and if so, good for them. Who wouldn’t want to make out in a storage closet after having a harrowing adventure in ghost busting? Harry wouldn't mind a little of that himself. Something to work out the buzz in his blood from the evenings excitement.They do emerge eventually, looking generally de-buzzed— Egon is frazzled and dopey, Billie is smug and smoothing her hair. They're just in time, as Venkman has successfully been convinced to leave with an IOU signed by Harry on behalf of the city.“Signed by a judge,” he says, waving it towards Ray and Egon. “I’d say that’s legally binding, gentlemen.”Billie floats over to Dan on his bench. A vision of exhaustion, he looks up at her.“This was great,” Billie glows. “This was so amazing. Wasn’t this just the best night of your life?" Finally, with a wrinkle of her nose, she seems to realize that Dan is filthy. "What happened to you?”Dan, with great dignity, doesn’t grace that with a response. Instead, he lets his eyes drift closed.“I’m glad you feel that way, Ms. Young,” Ray says with a smile. The ghost trap leaves an ashy mark on his leg as he stands up. “It was a real pleasure helping you folks out.”“And a pleasure destroying our offices, I’m sure,” Dan murmurs. “And my suit. And getting paid for it.”“Okay, let’s hit it, gang,” Venkman calls, folding up Harry’s IOU and depositing it with a pat into the zippered pocket on his chest. “Pleasure working with you, judge. You’re beautiful, never change.”From the bench, Dan snorts an ugly oink of a laugh.The Ghostbusters make their graceful exit, and Billie decides it’s her duty as an unofficial Ghostbuster (all she’s missing is the jumpsuit) to escort them down and out.Leaving Harry and Dan alone on the battered eighteenth floor.The whole floor is a mess. Harry should go check on that one office and make sure nothing is actively on fire. Instead, he sits next to Dan on the bench and nudges him with his shoulder.“Helluva night, huh?”A little smile cracks across Dan’s tired, miserable face. “You can say that again.”With a grin, he does: “Helluva night, huh?”Dan laughs and it’s the most wonderful sound Harry’s heard in hours.“Once in a lifetime kind of night. I hope.”“Yeah… me too.” While it was cool to see a ghost, it was scary too, Harry’s willing to admit that. One ghost encounter will be enough for a very long time. He got a good story out of it, one he can tell his kids, but he doesn’t need to come face to slimy face with a horrible apparition like that ever again. Dan turns to Harry, full of warmth, and Harry feels himself melt. Floating on a cotton candy cloud, he asks, “Hey, you want to get a drink?”Flicking a glob of slime off his hand, Dan sadly replies, “I want to take a shower.”“We can do that.” Dan stiffens and Harry realizes what he’s said. “I mean— I mean, we can have a drink at your place. You can clean up. I’ll drive you home.”But a bright, interested light has come on in Dan’s eyes. Like he’d long figured that their casual flirting was just that— casual, meaningless, nothing real, nothing either of them would ever really act on. Now it’s like his eyes have opened to a new wide world of real potential.“Oh.” A different kind of smile sparks across his face, crackling like pop rocks. “Okay. Yes. I’d like that.”“Great.” The melty, gooey warmth in Harry’s chest melts further and gets warmer. “Say… when you thought we were going to die, what did you want to say to me?”Under the slime and dust and pale exhaustion, Dan Fielding goes adorably pink. “Ah. Well.” He stands and straightens his suit as much as possible, putting on his most debonair air. “I wanted to say… that we should get a drink. At my place.”He smiles— beautiful, handsome, just a hint of lovely, straight teeth— and puts out his hand.It’s been one helluva night. Ghosts and danger and wonder and miracles and magic. And Dan Fielding, slimed but still devilishly dreamy and dashing.His face a matching shade of pink, Harry takes his offered hand.“Let’s get out of here.”“You said it.”As they wait for the elevator, Harry can’t help but feel that whatever magic brought a ghost to his courtroom has done something else tonight too. There was a different kind of feeling in the air. Something heightened and full of possibility. Maybe because it all happened after hours and it was just them and Billie, and Billie was on her own adventure for most of it. Maybe because he and Dan kept ending up chest to chest and all over each other on the floor.He’d say that it was the brush with real danger that got them here, except that he and Dan have been through all kinds of danger together before tonight— they’ve been through bomb threats and hostage situations and madmen with guns. They even got stuck in a stalled subway car for three hours one time, which was as harrowing as anything else they've been through. Something about tonight was different. They’ve tipped over into something new, and Harry can’t help but think it’s something wonderful. The casual, directionless flirting Harry’s been engaging in happily for months is one thing, and now there’s whatever happened here tonight. Whatever’s happening right now as they wait for the elevator, as Dan’s hand brushes against his with a coy, almost shy, tease of fingers.He catches Dan's fingers and holds his hand.The elevator arrives and, feeling impossibly happy— who cares about the property destruction he's leaving behind him for the day court to discover, who cares that he just cost the city five grand in Ghostbuster costs, who cares that his shirt looks like somebody sneezed a gallon of snot all over him, who cares about any of that when Dan Fielding is holding his hand— Harry sighs as he steps through the doors, “Wasn’t this just the best night of your life?”In a low tone, Dan purrs, “Not yet.”As the elevator doors close on them, he moves forward to pin Harry into the corner.The very un-american sound of the Ghostbusters siren goes off in Harry's mind at the moment Dan's mouth closes on his.