Archive of Our Own

Part 1

“I told you that you’ve should brought a jacket, Ray,” Egon stuffed his gloved hands into his pocket as he skimmed the chips aisle. Even inside the store, his breath appeared like smoke. He frowned as he stamped his feet while looking for the Cheezits.

Ray gestured to a box. “They’re here, Spengs. And besides, I’m fine.”

He tossed the box to Egon, who barely caught it. With a grin, he then pulled out a cigarette box from his pocket and a lighter. He then lit a cigarette and let the tar-like smoke enter his lungs.

Egon looked over his shoulder as he also grabbed a box of Twinkies. “Actually, smoking narrows your blood vessels, which will make your hands and feet colder.”

“Shit, really?” Ray took a long drawl of his cigarette, slowly exhaling the smoke and watching it climb up. He then joined Egon’s side as he grabbed a bag of chips.

“Yes. Perhaps I should start printing up studies and leaving them next to your blues records. Maybe then you’ll pay attention.”

Ray looked down at Egon’s hands, which were full with Cheezits, Twinkies, and a small doughnut packet.

Egon followed Ray’s glance, and frowned.

“I snack while I work in my lab. You know well that these snacks fuel half of the inventions we use in ghost busting.”

And Ray took out the cigarette box and tossed it up and down in his right hand. “And these prevent me from going insane from all the late night busts we do.”

Egon simply just reached for a package of Twizzlers and gestured to the register.

 “Don’t forget Winston’s cigarettes.”

Ray went up to the register and pointed to a pack of Camels. The teenager working at the register grabbed one and placed it on the counter.

“Aren’t you a bit too young to be working this late?” Egon asked, staring at the clock, “It’s three in the morning.”

The teenager simply gave him a blank stare. “Well, weirdos like you that come in at this time are why we need employees. Don’t come in, and then my boss won’t schedule me a shift.”

Egon frowned. “But it’s a 24-hour bodega. Regardless of anyone showing up, you’d still be wo-”

Ray cleared his throat and threw a twenty on the counter. “Egon, it’s getting lat- I mean early. I mean, let’s just get our stuff and go.”

“Would you like a bag?” the cashier asked.

“We would love one,” Ray stopped his teeth from chattering, “And throw in a pair of gloves while you’re at it.”

The cashier bagged all the items and handed it to Ray. The two scientists then exited the bodega. 

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Ray opened the bag and handed it to Egon. He then dug around for the pair of gloves, while Egon made a small tear in the Twizzlers bag and took out a licorice string. He offered Ray a string, and the other accepted.

They then made their way back to the firehouse, with only the light of the lampposts and the faint glow from the PKE meter guiding their way back.

“I don’t think we’ll run into anything now, Egon. I imagine ghosts also have curfews as well.”

Egon simply drummed his fingers on the PKE meter. “It would be interesting to note how psychokinetic energy changes throughout a 24 hour period.”

“Detect anything?”

“Not at the moment.”

They continued walking, but then Ray stopped. Egon bumped into him, and saw that his friend was staring at an empty cardboard box lying in the snow. He heard a faint squeak.

“What’s the matter, Ray?” Egon asked.

Ray didn’t answer him, but instead started walking slowly towards the box. He then gingerly lifted the flap and peeked inside. He then gasped loudly and reached inside.

“Ray, what is it?” his tone had a hint of panic in it, but then Ray turned around with a small kitten in his hands.

It was a small kitten, but its orange fur was absolutely filthy and likely infested with fleas. It was skinny from malnutrition and mewed softly as it rested in Ray’s hands.

Egon held up the PKE meter to it and did a quick scan.

“Good. It’s safe.”

Ray raised an eyebrow as Egon put the PKE meter back in his pocket.

“Last thing we need is a flood of spirits disguised as vulnerable kittens making their way into people’s homes to haunt them,” Egon explained.

Ray scoffed. “Sounds like a shitty children’s cartoon.”

The kitten then mewled again and both of them turned their attention to it.

“We need to take it in, Egon. The poor thing’s starving. I think we have some canned tuna in the pantry.”

“Do you think it belongs to someone?”

Ray bent down to look at the box. “There’s no note in the box or phone number written on the side. Some son of a bitch left this kitten to freeze to death.”

He used his teeth to peel off the glove and placed the kitten inside it. “But it’s okay, we’ll take it back to the firehouse and nurse it back to health.”

“Hopefully Peter and Winston don’t mind.”

“I don’t think they will. And if they do, they can take it up with me.”

And with a huff, he held the kitten close and they quickened their pace back to the firehouse.

Egon couldn’t help but to admire Ray’s heart and passion for helping others.

But he just hoped that Peter and Winston weren’t allergic to cats.

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When they arrived back at the firehouse, they climbed up the stairs, making sure that they didn’t make too much noise.

However, what they didn’t expect was someone sitting at the table with his elbows rested on it, fingertips pressed together.

“Alright, eggheads, where were you?”

“Peter!” Ray gave a weak smile, while Egon placed the bag on the table. “Egon wanted some snacks, so we just went to the bodega.”

“And Ray found a kitten,” Egon added.

“Spengs!” The kitten meowed, and Ray set it on the table while he took off the glove. Peter’s eyes widened as he backed up his chair away.

“Well, he was bound to find out eventually.”

“We could have told them in a much better way. Not just blankly like that.”

“Statements are best told blankly.”

“Stop arguing!” Peter said in a harsh whisper, “Also, no, we’re not letting a cat in here.”

“Aw, come on, Peter,” Ray said over his shoulder as he got a small bowl. “He was left all alone.”

“Ray, we’re way too busy to take care of a cat! And Janine will kill us if we ask her to babysit this cat. I can already hear her complaining that this is way above her pay grade!”

“Let Egon ask her,” Ray cracked open a can of tuna and poured half of it into the bowl, “She’ll do anything the man tells her to.”

Peter couldn’t help but to grin, and Egon took this as an opportunity to pay attention to the kitten instead.

“But no, we can’t let it in. We can’t take care of a cat.”

“Then I’ll take care of it. I’ll give her water and food and shelter and all that!”

“But Ray-”

“Peter, it was left out in the cold. There was no blanket or anything.” Ray used a finger to stroke the kitten’s head and placed the bowl in front of it. “Someone meant for this kitten to die, whether sooner or later. And I couldn’t just walk by and ignore it knowing that.”

Peter looked at Ray’s face, and saw that his eyes shone with despair. Puppy eyes. He hated that it worked every time.

“Fine. Stupid ass puppy eyes,” He ran a hand through his hair, then pointed at the kitten. “But don’t let it near me.”

Egon lifted up the kitten briefly and checked near its tail. “It’s a girl.” He then placed it back on the table, where it sunk its head into the tuna and continued devouring it.

“Mazel tov. Now don’t let her near me. I’m going to bed.”

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Peter headed back to his bed and ran into Winston, who stifled a yawn as he looked at Peter, then at the end of the hallway illuminated with the kitchen light.

“What’s going on?”

“Thing 1 and Thing 2 found a kitten and they wanna keep it.”

Winston laughed. “Really?”

“I know, ridiculous-”

“Hopefully it’s not a ghost. Perhaps I should go see it for myself.”

Peter made a grand gesture with his hands as he pointed them towards the end of the hallway. “Go nuts. Keep her away from me. Good night.”

Winston watched Peter stomp back to bed and chuckled. He then walked out in the kitchen, where now the kitten was lapping its tongue in a cool bowl of water.

Egon and Ray looked up. Winston sat in the chair Peter previously occupied.

“What’s its name?” he asked.

Both Ghostbusters spoke in unison.

“We didn’t pick one,” Egon said while Ray asked, “You’re not mad at us?”

“Nah. I don’t mind. Reminds me of a cat I used to see in my old neighborhood.”

He pet the kitten on its back, and it purred as it leaned into his touch.

“Name it Garfield.”

“Why the odd name choice?” Egon asked.

Winston shook his head. “Cause it’s orange. Like Garfield. You didn’t read the funnies growing up, did you?”

“My parents didn’t believe in fun.”

“Oh yeah, I remember the slinky story,” Ray chuckled as he then pet the kitten.

“Remind me to show you one someday,” Winston said, rising from his chair. “But not now. Right now I wanna sleep. Don’t stay up too late, you two.”

Egon also rose. “I shall take a quick nap, then resume some lab work.”

Ray picked up the kitten. “So you’ll sleep with me. Just make sure to not go near Peter.”

They all headed back to the common bedroom.

Part 2

Peter woke up with the kitten in his face as it mewled in a high pitch.

He was taken aback and pushed himself away. Too far back, because he landed on the floor with a huge THUD.

With a growl, he got up and glared at the alarm clock.

“It’s six in the morning. I shouldn’t be up this early, it’s a sign of the end times.”

Winston walked in and saw the kitten on Peter’s bed. He sat down on the edge of the bed and started petting the kitten.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. Don’t normally see you up this early.”

“Ha ha ha,” Peter jabbed his finger at the kitten. “Take her away. Now.”

Winston grabbed Garfield and placed her in his lap. “Garfield’s probably hungry, Peter. Poor thing is 20 pounds underweight, according to Egon.”

Peter cautiously sat on the other edge of the bed. “You named her Garfield?”

“It’s an orange cat. Man, you guys have no sense of humor.”

Peter pinched the bridge of his nose. “Don’t name her, that’s how you get attached.”

“Whatever, man,” Winston wiggled his fingers and smiled as Garfield played with them, “Why are you so against cats?”

“First of all, I’m against anything those two bring into the firehouse. First, they brought that annoying, disgusting slimeball that slimed me on our first assignment. Now this- this spawn of Satan!”

The ‘spawn of Satan’ was now nibbling on Winston’s fingers, a sign that it was hungry.

“Besides, I have an image to maintain. I’m a tough man. I don’t pet and coo at kittens.”

Peter grabbed a pair of fluffy socks with red stripes. Winston raised an eyebrow as Peter put them on.

“Now leave. I want some shut-eye. A face this beautiful needs beauty sleep, and I only got 3 hours.”

Winston shrugged as he got up from the bed and walked towards the doorway. He lifted up Garfield and took her paw and waved it side to side.

“Say bye to Peter, Garfield. Bye bye, Peter. Bye.”

Peter simply put his head to the pillow and shut his eyes.

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Winston took Garfield into the kitchen, where Egon was on the couch, reading a book. Ray was eating a bowl of oatmeal at the table.

“Morning, y’all,” Winston said with a yawn. “Seems Garfield is pretty hungry.”

Egon gestured for Winston to come over, and then pointed to a page in his book. “I’ve been doing some research. Seems based on this, Garfield is around 5 weeks old. So, she can take wet food, and apparently kittens are very social at this age.”

Garfield let out a soft meow.

“She’s already very talkative, isn’t she?” Ray laughed.

“She’ll also need a bath,” Egon closed the book. “Her fur is filthy, and the last thing we need is to have a flea outbreak, especially considering how cramped everything and everyone is. We can do it after breakfast.”

“You seem eager to be actively involved in her life, Egon,” Winston noted. Garfield let out another meow, and so Winston handed her to Egon while he went to prepare her breakfast.  

“Well, it’s important that she’s used to all of our faces and scents, since she’ll be staying with us for a while,” Egon let her purr in his lap, “The book says that kittens are very perceptive of their environment, and so familiarizing her with us will help her feel safe here. It’s fortunate that she’s taken to us very quickly, so it’ll help the process a bit. Right now, our main concern is just feeding her, since she’s severely malnourished.”

He looked down at his lap with notices on a grin on his face.

Ray came over and sat down next to him. “The purring is nice, isn’t it? Feels like all my worries melt away.”

“It does have a therapeutic effect, I must admit. The vibrations are soothing.”

Winston placed the bowl on the floor besides the couch. Without hesitation, Garfield jumped off the couch and dunked her head into the bowl, chewing softly on canned salmon. Winston then headed to the coffee machine.

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“Anyone want a cup of joe?” he offered.

“I would absolutely love one, thank you!” Peter strolled into the room, having apparently given up on falling asleep again. “Two sugars, please.”

Winston filled up the Mr. Coffee with water while Peter looked in the cabinet for a bowl.

“What happened to all our bowls?” he turned to Egon, “Don’t’ tell me you’ve been using them for your experiments. I still remember the fork incident.”

“They must be in the dishwasher then, Peter,” Winston added the coffee grounds and turned on the machine, “I used the last one for Garfield’s breakfast.”

Peter scowled at him. “She’s using her dishes now?” He looked around the room and saw Garfield on the floor, now laying down after her breakfast. His scowl grew deeper.

“I’ll go light today, then,” Peter said through gritted teeth, opting for an apple then. He sat at the dinner table, keeping a close eye on Garfield while he ate the apple.

The coffee machine beeped. Winston grabbed some mugs from the cabinet and started pouring the coffee. 

Garfield suddenly got up and started walking towards Peter. Peter’s eyes widened as he lifted his feet up.

“Winston! I told you guys to keep her away from me!”

With a roll of his eyes, Winston set down the mug by Peter’s arm and picked up Garfield.

“Peter, she isn’t going to kill you,” He placed her on his shoulders and grabbed the other two mugs, “Honestly, we’ve fought worse than this, and I’m just thinking of this week.”

He walked over to the couch and handed Ray the mug, who accepted.

“A huge Ghostbuster, afraid of a baby kitten,” Ray took a sip of his coffee, humming as his body got warmer.

Peter suddenly rose from the table. “I’m not afraid of a kitten! I just don’t want her near me c-cause she has fleas. Yea, you’re letting her crawl all over you guys and she’s got fleas!”

Egon rubbed his chin. “He does indeed have a point.” He drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch. “Note to self that after her bath, we’re washing the clothes and taking showers afterwards.”

“Yea, see, even Egon agrees with me!” Peter placed the finished apple core on the table.

“Aren’t you just overreacting a bit, Peter? Fleas are bad, yeah, but you’ve been on the subway before. The New York subway, Peter.”

“That’s not as bad,” Peter shot back.

Egon moved his foot around as Garfield played around his shoe and swatted it. “A study was conducted and found that half of the bacterial DNA on the subway was unidentified.”

“Like they didn’t get to it to test it?” Winston asked.

“No, as in there is no database match to it. As in we don’t know what the hell it is.”

“Ewwww,” Ray shuddered, taking another sip of his coffee, “Remind me to just phone you guys to bring ECTO-1 whenever I’m stranded in the city.”

“Will do,” Egon replied.

“Well, that’s not the point,” Peter rose and gave his mug a quick rinse, “Just keep Nermal 10 feet from me.”

He then headed back to the common bedroom. Everyone gave each other glances once he exited.

Part 3  

Ray placed the tub full of warm water down on the floor in the bathroom. “Don’t you two find it odd that Peter’s reacting so strongly to Garfield? I’ve never seen him so upset over something like this.”

Egon sat in the corner holding Garfield in his arms while Ray and Winston set up the bath. Both of them had changed into old, ratty t-shirts. Egon simply took off the sweater vest that he wore and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress shirt.

“It is indeed unusual, Ray,” Egon placed Garfield on his knee and let it bounce up and down while he pondered what could have been bothering Peter.

“Maybe he’s just been cranky lately. He hasn’t been on a date in a while,” Winston suggested.

Ray opened the wrapping around a comb and placed it next to the tub, “Or maybe he’s just a cat hater. Hand her over, Egon.”

Egon got up and handed the kitten to Ray. With a gloved hand, he took some soap on his finger and created a ring around Garfield’s neck.

After seeing Winston’s questioning expression, Egon explained. “I read that it prevents the fleas from escaping to the top of the kitten’s head.”

“Ahhh, makes sense,” Winston said, as he added some flea-removing shampoo they had bought onto Garfield’s fur and let Ray rub in onto her. Garfield let out a large meow and squirmed around in Ray’s hands, but he kept a firm grip.

“Ah, ah, ah, I’m sorry, hon, but we gotta clean you.” He let Winston take a cup and pour it over Garfield’s fur so that the shampoo could lather. After that, he dipped Garfield into the water to another protesting meow.

“You’re pretty good at this, Ray,” Egon said as he folded a towel on the floor so that he could prepare to dry Garfield after the bath.

“I had pets growing up,” Ray almost let Garfield slip out of his hands, but he snatched her in time, “Got you, you slippery thing. Yeah, my family was a dog family, and they absolutely loved the outdoors. The amount of mud they tracked in our house would give Mom heart attacks on the regular. So, giving them baths was very common. Comb, Winston.”  

“What kind of dogs did you have?” Winston asked as he handed over the comb.  

“Two Jack Russell terriers. Damn fearless things,” Ray ran the comb through the kitten’s fur, “A bit too fearless.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Both got hit by a car. Spent a whole week crying. John, my brother, saw how upset I was and told me this whole story about how they were in heaven, and their spirits were still with us and all that.”

Winston added more shampoo to Garfield’s tail. “I’m sorry to hear that man, although that explanation seems ironic now, considering our work.” 

Ray lathered the shampoo. “Yeah, seems funny. I swear that I could still hear them scratching at the doors sometimes, but I always thought I was going crazy.”

“Could have been them,” Egon added. “Perhaps a non-disruptive Class VI entity.”

“Perhaps,” Ray then went through Garfield’s fur one last time with the comb. Then, he rinsed her off and handed her to Egon to dry.

“Alright, I know the other classes, but what’s a Class VI?” Winston asked.

Egon placed Garfield in the center of the towel and then began vigorously drying her. “It’s typically reserved for lower class forms, like animals. Usually, they’re more difficult to deal with, since they aren’t really…. human.”

Garfield began meowing in protest, attempting to run away each time, but Egon caught her and continuing drying her off.

Ray added, “We haven’t come across many since most ghosts are human in spirit. But typically the way to bust them involves some research, since you have to know a bit about the animal it is.”

“So you’re saying that a lion from Central Park Zoo could be a ghost?”

Egon finally finished off Garfield and let her wander around. “Hypothetically, yes. Or the Wall Street bull.”

“Hopefully it hits whatever asshole set the interest on the mortgage I took out on my family’s house to start this business,” Ray added bitterly. “19% interest, son of a bitch.”

“19%?” Winston’s eyebrows rose, “Man, did you even try to argue?” 

Ray got up. “Blame Peter. Alright, if we’re done here, I’m taking a shower so that I don’t get fleas.”

 He made his way to the doorway, then stopped and leaned against it, gesturing with his hands as he spoke, “Had plenty of those when I was a kid and I can tell you right now,” here, he brought down a fist on an open palm, “Those bastards hurt. So, make sure you dump the clothes immediately in the washer. We’re washing those with bleach and hot water.”

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Janine was sitting at her desk finishing up a phone call and writing the appointment down when she saw all four of them coming down the stairs. She wished a person a nice day and hung up, noticing that Ray was holding something and looked a little nervous.

“What is this?” she asked, her New York accent showing, “It’s something bad. Either you’re giving me a raise or firing me.”

“Calm down, Janine, it isn’t either,” Peter walked over to her desk and sat on the edge, “We could never fire a pretty face like yours.”

“Then what’s the matter?” she pointed at Ray with a pencil, “Ray looks nervous.”

Winston elbowed Ray, who let out a soft cry.

“Ow, Winston!”

“Man, your face is an open book. This is why you always lose whenever we play poker.”

Ray shifted the weight of Garfield onto his left hand, using the right hand to rub his side from the sharp pain that emerged. “Man, that smarts, Winston.”

Janine gasped when she saw the kitten. “Oh my gosh!”

Peter clasped his hands, almost as if in prayer. “Thank God, she hates it! Well, it was a wonderful run, but we gotta get rid of her-”

Janine ran to Ray and grabbed the kitten, pressing it against her face. Garfield leaned into the touch, purring contently.

“She’s absolutely adorable! When did you guys find her?”

Ignoring the sound of Peter’s jaw hitting the floor, Ray explained, “Me and Egon found her out in the snow when we were outside. Poor thing was starving, so we took her in.”

“I made a schedule so that she gets fed all of the important nutrients that she needs,” Egon added. “Right down to the hour.”

Janine looked at both of them, her gaze on Egon lingering a bit longer. “Well, you two are incredibly kind. Real humanitarians.”

Peter jumped off the desk and put his hands on it, leaning towards Janine. “Wait, wait, wait, you like her?”

“You don’t?”

Winston chuckled. “Yep, he’s in the minority here. I’m honestly surprised you haven’t heard his complaining.”

“He has indeed done a lot of it,” Egon added, as Ray nodded in agreement with both of them.

“Oh shut up,” Peter growled, crossing his arms.

“How can you not love such an adorable kitten?” Janine lifted Garfield up so that she met her eyes, and cooed. “She’s so pretty and her fur is so soft. What’s her name?”

“Garfield,” Winston answered. “I came up with it.”

“Oh, cause he’s orange. That’s clever, Winston.”

Winston raised his hands to the sky. “Finally, someone appreciates my talent.”

“But why do you not like her, Peter?” Janine now turned to Peter.

“I just don’t like cats,” Peter’s scowl grew deeper, “God, is it that hard to understand?”

“We think he’s afraid,” Ray whispered, and Janine giggled.

“I am NOT! Sometimes, people just aren’t cat people,” Peter looked Garfield in the eyes, “You’re not fooling me with your cuteness, you little-”

Garfield’s pupils widened so that her entire eye was black, and she was looking directly at him. She even had her tongue stuck out a little bit. Peter was momentarily distracted, then shook his head.

“Pest,” there was a strong stress on the word as it slipped between his teeth in a hiss.

The phone then rang. Janine set Garfield on the floor and answered it.

“Hello? Corner of 15^th and J Street? They’re on the way.” She then hung up the phone. “Ghost at Sal’s Deli. Apparently it’s harassing the waiters and customers, and the owner wants it gone.”

“Then we’re on our way,” Peter grinned.

They then started getting dressed and loading up ECTO-1.

“I’ll watch Garfield while you boys have fun. And bring me back my usual order!” Janine waved them off as the car sped off, its siren blaring as Peter drove through the streets of New York madly, with Egon pointing out each traffic law he broke in real time. 

Part 4

For the next few weeks, Garfield became a welcome guest in the firehouse.

Janine especially loved her. She had a special chair set up with a soft pillow she brought from home. Garfield would often come and sleep on it, providing Janine company while she performed her secretary duties.

Ray noticed that Garfield really liked sleeping on pillows. He felt bad since while he knows Janine didn’t mind, it was still her pillow at the end of the day. So, using some funds he had saved for a rainy day, he went out to go buy a cat bed.

There was a pet store in Tribeca that wasn’t too far from the firehouse, so he was thinking of stopping by there. Besides, there was also a really good Chinese place a block down, and he was thinking of picking some up since this week had been rough in terms of ghostbusting.

He opted for the bus since ECTO-1 may bring too much unnecessary attention. And he was also still traumatized from Egon’s little factoid. Besides, it needed its tires changed, which Ray also planned on doing today.

He walked over to the bus stop and waited for a few minutes for the bus to pull up. It groaned as it drove, stopping with a loud hiss and a beep as the doors opened. Dropping his change off at the front, he picked a seat near the front and was content just to stare out the window until he had to get off. No one was on the bus anyways, so it made the journey a bit more peaceful.

Pressing the button to get off at his stop, he stepped off the bus and walked a bit until he approached the pet store. He went inside, the little bell announcing his arrival.

“Raymond! How are things going?” the owner called out as he was filling up the shelves with cat food. He was an old man with white hair and a short stature. He had a strong accent that one would mistake for Russian were they uneducated, and which earned a strict lecture from the man.

He was on a step ladder and made a wrong step. Luckily, Ray’s quick thinking and speed allowed him to run up behind him and grab him before he split his head open on the ground underneath them.

“You gotta be careful, Mr. Deruga,” Ray warned as he helped the man get onto his feet.

“Raymond, I’m fine. If I could survive the Soviets and the Germans, I can do anything.”

Ray shook his head. “I still see you’re stubborn as hell.” He took out his cigarette box and offered one to Mr. Deruga, who refused.

“Still see you’re smoking like a chimney,” the man laughed.

Ray shook his head as he lit the cigarette. “It’s been a rough week, Mr. Deruga. In this line of work, you need a vice, otherwise you go insane.”

“I could imagine,” Mr. Deruga said, “Now, what brings you here? You didn’t happen to run into ghost dogs, now did ya?”

Ray laughed. “On the contrary. We found a cat in the snowstorm a few weeks ago and I was just gonna get it a bed so it’s more comfortable.” He exhaled the smoke through his nose. “It’s been sleeping on our secretary’s pillow so far, and I felt bad.”

“Oy, that snowstorm was horrible. Someone left a kitten out there?”

“Exactly. If I ever find the son of a bitch, I’m releasing a Class VII in his house. A real vicious one, too, something from a myth. For some reason, being associated with myths or legends increases the nastiness of the vapors. It’s interesting, me and Egon have been looking into the effect that written or oral transmission of stories have on their strength-”

“Raymond, you’re going on a tangent again,” Mr. Deruga grabbed Ray’s ear and gave it a playful tug. “You never change, do ya?”

“Ow!” Ray nursed his ear, biting down extra hard so that the cigarette didn’t drop from his mouth.

“The beds are in the back. Lemme know if you need help.” Mr. Deruga stepped back onto the ladder. “I’ll be stocking cat food if you need me.”

“Are you sure?” Ray asked. “I mean, you almost fell, Mr. Deruga. Are your boys not here helping you anymore?”

“Oh, they help out in the evenings. They’re just at college getting their degrees. Going to Columbia, like you and your friends.”

Ray bit the inside of his mouth. “Well hopefully, they have a better experience than we did.”

He then went to the back and looked at all the cat beds. A lot of them were either too small or too big. Finally, he decided on one. It was the perfect size, and it was easy to carry on the bus, along with the Chinese food.

He picked it up and went over to the cash register.

“I’d like this one, Mr. Deruga. How much is it?”

“6 bucks.”

Ray dug in his wallet and took out a 10. “Keep the change.”

“No Raymond, it’s only 6 bucks. I give you change back.”

Ray took the bed and ran towards the door before Mr. Deruga could count the change.

“Nope, keep it. I’m already on my way out.”

He then opened the door and closed it. He looked through the glass at Mr. Deruga shaking his head.

“Goodbye, Raymond. Make sure to come visit again.”

Ray gave a wave and then made his way to the Chinese place.

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“Just got back!” he called out as he entered the firehouse.

He went upstairs and found that there was a package on the dining room table. It had Egon’s name on it, so he set the food on the table, picked up the package, and went over to Egon’s lab. The man was engrossed in his work, tinkering with the wires of a trap. A half-eaten Crunch bar lay at his elbow.

“Hey Egon, I think you got a package,” Ray set it down on the table besides him. He then saw Garfield on the chair next to Egon, chewing on an old toy.

“Looks like both of you were busy,” Ray said as he walked over to Garfield and pet her head and back. “Hiya girl, got you a new bed.”

“I just gave it to her cause she kept climbing up on my shoulder while I was working,” Egon set down his tools and turned to face Ray, “She’s very clingy. I would have let her sit on my shoulder, but the wiring is a bit wonky on this, and I didn’t want to startle her.”

“Where’s Peter and Winston?”

“They went on a bust. Took ECTO-1 with them. They should be back in a few minutes, it was only a Class II.”

Ray gestured to the box. “What’s in the package?”

Egon got up and opened the package. “Should be some equipment I ordered,” he tossed a piece of crinkled paper and let it fall to the floor, “I needed new stuff for some readings I want to take.”

Garfield saw the piece of crinkled paper on the floor and jumped from off the chair. She then played around with it for a bit, swatting it with her paw as she chased it around the room.

“Is it for that hypothesis of yours you were entertaining a few weeks ago?”

Egon nodded. “I wanted to go more in-depth, and some of the equipment I need to use needs new parts.”

Ray heard the faint sound of ECTO-1 pull into the firehouse. “I think they just got back. The Chinese I got should still be warm, so let’s go eat.”

They both walked over to the dining room, Garfield chasing after them while dragging the piece of crinkled paper.

Ray took the bed and placed it on the floor. “Here you go, Garfield. I got you a nice bed.”

But Garfield seemed content with the piece of paper. She got on it, circled around, and then laid down on it. Ray frowned, and he moved the bed around, trying to get Garfield’s attention.

“Come on, girl,” Ray pat the bed, “Look, it’s so nice and soft. Much better than a piece of boring and rough paper.”

He then placed his head on the bed. “Look, even I like it. It’s so nice.”

But the cat seemed insistent. She just looked up at Ray with her wide eyes, chin resting on her paw as she continued to lay down.

Egon knelt. “It seems like she found her new bed.”

“I literally went out to get this!” Ray turned around, now looking at the ceiling.

Peter and Winston both walked in as the sound of something squishy filled the air. Egon cringed internally as he saw the ectoplasm slither down Peter’s outfit and silently thanked God that this wasn’t a common occurrence for him.

“Why the hell is Ray lying down on a cat bed?” Peter asked.

“Because apparently Garfield is ungrateful,” Ray complained, getting up with the bed in his hand. “Fine, I’ll just go put this near my bed.”

He left the room grumbling under his breath. Egon sat down on the floor and pet Garfield, who was now sitting in a loaf form.
“You’re a very stubborn cat. I like that.”

He then turned to the other two. “I thought it was a Class II.”

Peter tossed his proton pack on the couch and slipped his uniform off. “The client was wrong.” Luckily, his shirt and shorts underneath weren’t slimed. But his hair was a completely different story.

“It was a Class III. Real nasty one too,” Winston explained. “Can’t wait to eat, I’m starving.”

Ray just came back into the room and saw Peter’s outfit laid across a chair. “Oh gosh, Peter, I thought it was a Class II.”

“I’m going to wash my hair,” Peter walked past Ray.

All of them could hear a very faint, “Why does this shit always happen to me?” down the hallway, and then the slam of a door.

“It was a Class III apparently,” Egon clarified.

“We need to put something out so that our clients get the classifications right. Class III is at least a three person job,” Ray went over to the table and sat down.

“I agree. Wrong classifications can get us killed,” Egon said.

Winston sat down. “You went to Chang’s?”

Ray began setting out the Chinese containers. “Where else would I go?”

Part 5  

Eventually, Garfield soon started getting used to the bed. However, they moved it out to the living room after the first night because in the middle of the night, she randomly woke up and started zooming around the room. Because everyone (except Egon, who usually was a light sleeper) was groggy the next day, they decided to move her to a more open area where she could run to her heart’s content.

However, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about the way Garfield looked at him that one time. The happiness in her eyes, the pure innocence they contained. Also combined with a lack of thoughts in that little mind; he concluded her head was empty except for playing and memorizing the times in the day that Egon fed her.

While the other guys were confused on why he reacted that way, Peter knew deep inside why. Ever since the Gozer attack on New York, he couldn’t get those demon dogs out of his mind. It terrified him and made him afraid of dogs. Every time he walked in the city, he could feel his heart rate increase every time a dog passed by him. And apparently this extended to cats now.

All the Ghostbusters had fears like that as a result of a scare they had at work.

Egon was afraid of being on the edge of the roof. Once on a mission, he nearly fell off one, but was saved by all three of them grabbing onto his arms for dear life. Peter could see how his nervous habit of rubbing his arms or scratching them increased whenever they found themselves on the top of buildings during future missions.

For Winston, it was loud noises. Perhaps it was a combination of his current job and his prior experience as a Marine, but Peter noticed that if there was a lot of loud, sudden noises, akin to gunshots, Winston got agitated. In those cases, Egon offered his headphones whenever Winston needed to decompress in the back of ECTO-1.

Ray? Peter wasn’t sure. He did notice that Ray looked at marshmallows weirdly for a month after the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man. There was probably something he didn’t catch, like how the guys couldn’t catch his fears of animals, or just brushed it off as a simple fear.

That was fine with him. He didn’t need the guys worrying about him. But he did need to fix the fear. He couldn’t be on edge because of a stupid kitten. Time to put his psychology degree to use.

One night while the others were asleep, he snuck out and went into the living room. He found Garfield’s bed and sat down in front of it. For a while, he watched Garfield’s chest rise and fall as she occasionally let out a whine in her sleep.

Peter just focused his eyes on her and let his breathing grow steady. He tuned out all of the anxious thoughts in his head and just focused on this small kitten.

He spent a few days watching her. While he did, he always took the time to contemplate.

She looked so peaceful sleeping. She reminded him of Oscar and how he would watch him sleep while Dana was knocked out on the couch.

Garfield was so small. She had gained a bit of weight since they took her in, but he couldn’t imagine how cold and small and frightened she might have been in that snowstorm. No one to protect her. And yet she let Ray touch her. By all logic, she should have hated humanity after one of them cast her out into the snow. Not have given Ray a chance. Lashed out in anger, maybe bitten him, or worse, scratched his eye out.

Yet, she had hope. She let him take her into his arms. She didn’t know what would happen, what he would do to her. And yet she trusted him.

It was kind of beautiful. Peter felt a deep guilt that his fear stopped him from being kind to her because he himself was afraid.

“I’m sorry,” he said in a very low whisper one night.

This seemed to wake her up.

Peter’s heart rate went up. She turned over in the bed and looked at him. It was a look of content.

Peter locked eyes with her, even bringing his head down so that he was eye level with her.

And then she went back to sleep.

Yep, just like Oscar. It was that night that he felt comfortable to take it to the next step.

He reached out his hand and gently touched her. She was still awake, so she leaned into the touch. While his heart was beating wildly in his chest, he kept his hand on her. She began purring.

Calm down, Peter, he thought.

But the sound was a lovely one. Egon was right, it did melt all of his worries now.

For the next few nights, he did the same thing. He found the warmth from her body on his hand comforting.

Part 6

Peter was at the table, enjoying a nice cup of coffee with buttered toast. He was reading the newspaper, when he felt something brush against his leg.

It was Garfield. She was rubbing up against his leg, circling around it while meowing loudly.

He looked around to make sure no one was looking, and then gave her a small scratch on the head. She then flopped over, showing him her belly.

He continued to pet her, and then heard a noise. Quickly, he returned to his newspaper, flipping to the sports section.

Winston walked in, inhaling the warm smell of coffee that permeated the room. He looked haggard, yawning as he walked over to the coffee machine.

“Did you make this?” he asked, pointing to the half-full pot of coffee. 

Peter nodded, taking a loud, dramatic sip.

“What the hell happened to you?” he asked. “Wake up on the wrong side of the bed?”

“Couldn’t sleep, for some reason,” he grabbed a mug from the cabinet. “Not a nightmare, but my dreams were just… colors. And my thoughts kept racing, and they were just incoherent. Like they seemed important, but thinking about them now, they just don’t make sense.”

“Maybe have Egghead look you over? He always thinks everytime we have a nightmare, something bad is on the horizon.”

“Isn’t he usually right?”

Peter took another loud sip of coffee. “Isn’t he always?”

“If it continues another night, then maybe. For now, hopefully the coffee wakes me up,” Winston added a teaspoon of sugar, took a sip, and then grimaced. “You dumbass, you burned it.”

Peter shrugged. “Sue me.”

“I should,” Winston added two more teaspoons of sugar, “Really needed this, man.”

The last sentence was said so bitterly, it caught Peter somewhat off guard. “Sorry, Winston. It’s not like I woke up this morning with the intention to burn it so you couldn’t enjoy it.”

Winston shook his head, stretching his face with his hand. “Oh God, I really do need to sleep.”

He then looked down at Garfield, who was now playing with a piece of loose string. “Actually, I have an idea. You’re coming with me.”

He scooped up with Garfield, leaving the mug of coffee on the table.

---------------------------------

Placing Garfield on the ground, he then looked around for a ball. Finally, he found a small tennis ball and approached Garfield, bouncing it up and down. He held it out so that she could sniff at it. She even opened her mouth and bit it.

“Alright, we’re going to play fetch. Perhaps we’ll play enough and tire it me out so that I can catch some Z’s before our appointment at 3 today.”

He then bounced the ball again, and then tossed it. “Fetch!”

Garfield just watched the ball fly across the room, hitting a cabinet and then spinning out onto the floor.

Winston knelt down to face the kitten. “You’re supposed to fetch that. Go get the ball.”

Garfield only rubbed herself against his knee.

“Maybe you don’t know how to fetch,” he then snapped his fingers, “I’ll teach you.”

He then ran back to get the ball. Wiggling his fingers, he got Garfield to focus on the ball. He then tapped it.

“Here’s the ball. Now, I’m going to throw it.”

He then threw it.

“Now, I’m going to catch it.”

He then ran after it and grabbed the ball.

“See, it’s in my hand. Now, I run back.”

He then ran back.

“Simple, isn’t it? Did you get all that?”

Garfield simply just stared. Her ears went into airplane mode.

“Alright, I did you did. Now-” he tossed the ball, “Go fetch, girl!”

He looked to the ball for a while. However, Garfield didn’t run after it. He looked besides him, and saw that Garfield was licking her paw.

He slapped his forehead with his hand. “Come on, girl, how are you not understanding this?”

After pondering for a bit, he then realized that maybe he was talking too fast. After all, this cat was very young. He wasn’t sure of the equivalent in human years, but Garfield did seem similar to a small toddler. Maybe he should just small sentences.

He then ran back to grab the ball. Again, he got Garfield’s attention by placing the ball in front of her. She sniffed it again and swatted it with her paw.

“Alright. Ball,” he pointed to the ball, “Throw it.”

He then tossed the ball. “Catch ball.”

He then ran after the ball, holding it up in the air once he picked it up off the ground.

“Bring back.”

He then ran back.

“You got it that time?”

Again, the same blanket stare.

“Now, fetch!” He tossed the ball.

Again, nothing. She just sat at his feet, playing with one of his shoelaces.

“Come on, Garfield, I know you’re smarter than this!” he groaned. He sat on the floor.

“Maybe I should try rolling it?”

He then grabbed the tennis ball and rolled it. “Go fetch?”

Same response.

Winston got up off the floor, scooping her up. “Alright, maybe you’re not a fetcher. There has to be another way to play with you.”

---------------------------------

He went into Egon’s lab to grab a laser, and then came back.

“Alright, Garf, I got a laser. Cats love this stuff, right?”

He then turned it on and pointed it to the ground. It was a small red light. He made sure Garfield saw it, and then started moving it around quickly. He made donuts with it, moved it in straight lines, even doing figure 8s with it.

However, Garfield didn’t chase after it.

“Is the laser broken?” he asked aloud. He turned it off, and then turned it on again. He repeated what he did before. The dot was on the ground, he made sure of it. But again, Garfield didn’t move.

“Maybe it’s just hard to see?” This time, he tried pointing to the dot on the ground, identifying it for Garfield. For this, he had to get on his knees, holding the laser with his right hand while kneeling to point at the dot with his left.

“Hey, girl, look, a laser,” he then moved it around, still pointing at it, “Wow, look, it’s moving. Don’t you wanna chase it?”

Again, no response. Garfield was staring directly at it moving, but didn’t chase it.

Winston used the laser to move it around. Garfield was following it with her eyes, but didn’t run after it.

“What the hell?” Winston stared in confusion.

He continued to move it around. Again, nothing apart from just following it with her eyes.

“Alright, let’s just solve this issue,” he scooped up the cat and made his ways upstairs, “Egon! Egon, man, are you busy?”

Egon stood in the doorway of his laboratory. “Did you need something Winston?”

Winston held out the laser. “Is something wrong with the laser? I borrowed it from your lab. I tried shining it for Garfield, but she doesn’t want to play with it.”

Egon raised an eyebrow, then took the laser and spun it around in his fingers. He seemed to take the time to think, and then finally answered.

“Cats are colorblind to the color red.”

Winston only just stared, his mouth slightly agap.

“Huh?”

Egon gestured to Garfield. “They’re colorblind to the color red. Likely the color doesn’t stand out to her, and so that’s why she isn’t playing with it.”

“And how did you figure that out?”

I read it in the book.”

“It’s in the book?” Winston said with a mixture of anger and utter disbelief, “And you still gave me the laser?”

Egon stared at him. “I don’t believe I gave it to you. You likely took it from the lab without my permission.”

Winston then realized that he did grab it when Egon wasn’t in his lab. “Right, I did.”

He then took a huge, annoyed sigh, forming his hand into a fist and tapping the side of his head. “I’m sorry, man.”

Egon was studying the man’s expression, then asked, “Is something the matter, Winston?”

“I just had a rough night’s sleep and I’ve been off all day.”

“I have some free time now,” the scientist offered, “Would you like me to monitor your brain waves? Perhaps this is a sign of something happening in the future, and it’s foreshadowing itself through some sort of nightmare.”

“Or I just had a bad night of sleep.”

Egon stopped spinning the laser. “That could also be true.”

“You scientists just always go for the most far-out explanation.”

“You would be surprised how many times nightmares foreshadow a horrible haunting. Just ask Ray, he’s read up a lot on it. He often ‘calls’ it whenever we research,” Egon did air-quotes as he spoke, “Considers it a cliché of sorts.”

“Really?”

He nodded, and then held out the laser to Winston. “Did you want the laser back?”

“Keep it. She’s not playing with it.”

He placed Garfield on the floor. “I’m going to lay down. I feel a headache coming on.”

“I have some Advil if you want. Same drawer as the last time you borrowed it.”  

“I’ll take some.”

They both walked into his laboratory, and Winston went to the drawer and took out a small pill bottle.

“There’s only one left, so you can take the bottle. I’ll place an order at the pharmacy sometime this week.”

“Noted,” Winston opened the bottle and poured the pill into his hand, “Thanks, man.”

“No problem. I hope your headache is alleviated.”

Winston went to the kitchen, Garfield following him at the heels. He poured himself a glass of water and swallowed the pill. He then looked down at Garfield, who was looking up at him. She meowed loudly and with a high pitch.

Winston covered one of his ears. “Egon already fed you. Besides, I’m going to sleep because you tired me out with your stubbornness.”

Garfield merely meowed back in turn, as if arguing with the man.

Winston merely headed back to the common bedroom and immediately collapsed onto his bed. He used one arm to shield his eyes from the sunlight coming in through the window.

He shut his eyes. Then, he felt something scrunch up next to him.

He opened his eyes and saw that Garfield was curled up in a ball next to him. He felt a vibration through his bed and realized that Garfield was making a purring noise.

It lulled him into a sense of relaxation as he felt the purring loosening the stress in his body. Egon was right, the sound was very relaxing.

He pulled Garfield closer to him, feeling the kitten’s warmth against his chest.

Garfield curled up even closer, his purring growing quieter as the kitten began to doze off.

Winston could feel his eyes closer and let slumber overtake him.

Egon came by later to check up on Winston, since their appointment was in an hour.

He then saw that both Winston and Garfield were curled up on the bed. Ray would have admired the sight, while Peter would have rolled his eyes, Egon thought humorously to himself.

Perhaps they could take this one while Winston slept. He unfortunately knew the feeling of exhaustion, and knew that Winston needed the peace and quiet right now.

Part 7

It was the middle of the night, and the living room was only illuminated by the light of the full moon streaming in through the windows. It stretched itself across the floor that Peter’s slippers tip-toed on as he headed towards Garfield’s bed.

Today would be holding. He was nervous about it, but he tried to shake himself out of the feeling with a quip. Maybe he would reward himself with a lollipop since he was being such a ‘brave boy.’

Peter cringed. That sounded gross and he didn’t even say it aloud.

He eventually found Garfield asleep. Placing a hand on the floor, he sat crisscross in front of the kitten’s bed.

He took a deep breath. He could do this.

He held out his hands, then hesitated.

What was frightening him? He tried to move his hands forward, but couldn’t.

Come on, lollipop. Lollipop. Be a brave man, Peter.

The only sound he could hear was his own hitched breathing.

Was he panicking? He couldn’t tell.

He took his hands back and wrapped them around himself to squeeze himself tighter. He always saw Egon doing it whenever he shut down, and it seemed to help.

Tighter. Tighter.

He exhaled sharply and released his hands.

Fuck it. Rip the band-aid clean off.

He grabbed Garfield and just held her. The kitten remained asleep, just hanging limp.

Peter could hear his heart beating fast. It pounded in his head, throat, and against his chest. He was worried it was going to burst open and his heart would just plop onto the floor in a bloody mess.

But then Garfield squirmed and blinked her eyes open. And she turned to look at Peter.

And the single look slowed down his heart rate.

They both looked at each other for a while. It must have been awkward, especially since Peter felt he was holding her a mile away from him.

She mewled softly. Her paws lifted up and seemed to be reaching towards him.

Although every cell in his body was screaming no, he recognized the desperate, pathetic gesture.

She was lonely. And she was reaching out to be less alone to an equally lonely man.

All of a sudden, he thought of Dana and Oscar in that little apartment and he shook the thought from his mind.

Calm down, Peter. It’s a cat, not some crappy therapy session.

What was it that Ray said? She was found alone?

Did she have a mother? Did she have a father? Siblings?

He couldn’t imagine being alone like that.

His childhood was shitty, for sure, and his father certainly didn’t give him enough attention.

But at least he was there. Peter couldn’t imagine having to navigate the world on his own, although it felt like he did.

But to have nothing. To be cold and alone and in fear. To have death breathing down your neck with its hot breath. To mewl with the hope that things would be better.

And then it did. For both of them.

To find another. To make connections. To be less lonely. To eat in the company of others who care about you and watch to make sure that you’re actually eating.

To have a hand hold itself out and save you.

To be saved by a group of friends.

He drew Garfield closer until the kitten was against his chest, nestling into it.

It felt nice. For a moment, he felt less lonely.

Garfield mewled again.

“You are definitely chatty, aren’t you?” he whispered.

They just sat there in silence for a moment. And Garfield eventually fell asleep in his arms. He placed her on his lap so that she would be more comfortable.  

Peter snuck a look at Egon’s book earlier that week. Apparently kittens fell asleep near people because they felt safe near them. That they wouldn’t have to stay awake because they didn’t believe that they were in any danger.

Peter felt that he could relate to that.

“You’re kinda cute, when you don’t terrify the shit out of me.”

He placed his elbow on his knee, and rested his face in his hand. With his left hand, he continued stroking Garfield’s fur on her head. He could have sworn that Garfield smiled, even though she was a cat.

He then heard footsteps and panicked. Without a second thought, he placed Garfield onto her bed and quickly got up. He then stepped away from it.

He then saw the light in the hallway turn on. And then a door close.

Oh. Someone was using the restroom.

How the hell was he going to tell the guys that he liked Garfield now without them suspecting that he was scared of her in the first place?

Part 8

For the most part, Egon didn’t mind Garfield’s presence in the firehouse.

In his opinion, a cat was a nice companion. They weren’t very social creatures, slept most of the time, and kept to themselves.

Just like him. Minus the sleeping.   

However, he noticed something odd. For some reason, Garfield was always hungry. Even if he fed her a few minutes ago, she wouldn’t hesitate to meow loudly for another treat or bowl of food.

Again, somewhat similar to him. He did enjoy snacking between meals, after all.

One time, he recalled, he was in the kitchen making a sandwich. He was using the smooth peanut butter, cause he didn’t like the way the chunky one felt in his mouth. Garfield was at his foot, just looking up. He simply looked down at her.

“Garfield, you already ate,” he said, leaning against the counter and taking a bite of the sandwich.

She just meowed.

“Your next meal is only in two hours. Perhaps I should increase the nutrients and density of your meals if you’re this hungry.”

Instead of taking in this information, she just climbed up his leg. Egon’s eyes widened in alarm as she started moving up, meowing loudly as she did so.

“Garfield, get down. This is irrational.” With a spare hand, he plucked her off his pants leg and held her up in the air. “You are fed properly. I am making sure it is the right amounts, vitamins, and other minerals a growing kitten needs.”

She then saw the sandwich in his hand and starting pawing towards it. Egon looked where her eyes was.

“Can kittens even eat peanut butter?” he wondered before shaking his head. “You really are hungry?”

She was now kicking in the air and meowing loudly. Egon put her down on the floor and knelt down.

“Fine, fine. Goodness. You’re a stubborn thing, aren’t you?”

He tore off a chunk of the sandwich and gave it to her.

“Here you go. I shall have to set aside some time to edit your feeding plan, but it shall be done.”

She gobbled up the piece quickly and looked up eagerly for more.

“Nope. This one’s mine. I need to eat too.”

---------------------------------

However, his hypothesis was wrong.

Even after increasing the size of her meals, she was still begging for food whenever he was in the kitchen.

“How can such a small thing be this hungry?” he said to himself as Garfield began crawling up his leg again, meowing as if she was starving for the past week.

He picked her off and took her to his lab. He had been weighing her to see that she was gaining at a normal rate based on the plan. Ideally, it should be around 4 ounces a week, which he read was normal for kittens her age.

However, upon checking his notes, he saw that this week, she had gained 6 ounces. Which didn’t make sense. Based on the meals, she should be at most gaining 5 ounces. He had calculated it down to the decimal point.

He couldn’t be wrong. He decided to wait until next week to see if the result was off then. Only then would he worry.

In the meantime, he had to fight off a hungry kitten who seemed to follow him around in the kitchen, and even began sitting at his feet at the table, as if certain he would drop something on the ground for her to eat.

Why would she be this certain?

---------------------------------

Next week, it was 7 ounces when he weighed her.

Something was definitely off. And it wasn’t his math, he would bet all the Crunch bars in the world on that.

Ray came in while he was weighing her. After cooing over and petting the kitten, he then saw Egon’s troubled expression.

“What’s up, Egie?” he asked, pulling up a chair.

Egon held up his notebook and showed Ray the numbers.

“Her weight gain. It’s been a bit odd these past two weeks. She’s gaining more weight than she should. It should only be 4-5 ounces, according to the book. However, as you can see here and here,” he then pointed to the measurements from today and last week, “It’s been off. I know weight gain can be a bit uneven, but I don’t want it to arise as an issue in the future.”

Ray looked at the numbers and chuckled. “Egon, she’s a growing kitten. Kittens aren’t like fungus, they don’t have exact growth rates.”

“But the book says-”

“Fungus grow perfectly because you can control how they grow. The amount of light, food, and moisture they get. But Garfield’s a living thing,” he took her off the scale and placed her on the ground, “You can’t control all of the variables in her life. There’s too many to keep track of. It’s why we tend to use mice in studies after all, a lot easier to manage.”

Egon closed the book. “So, you’re saying it’s nothing to worry about.”

Ray nodded. “Yep. All you just have to focus on is that she is happy and healthy. She shouldn’t be having to hit a weight quota in order to satisfy that.”

Egon looked down at the kitten and saw that she was playing with one of his untied shoelaces.

“I understand, Ray.”

“I know sometimes science can be literal, and you tend to take things literally. And it’s not a bad thing. It’s helped us a lot out with researching and finding a way to bust ghosts. But don’t excessively worry about Garfield. We need you focused for any missions we have.”

“I see.” Ray could see the slight relief in Egon’s eyes. “Thanks for this talk, Ray. It was very insightful.”

Ray got up from his chair. “No problem, Egon. Now if Garfield grows a fifth leg, maybe then we should start worrying.” At the last sentence, he started laughing, and even Egon had a faint smile on his face.

Ray was about to head out the door, but Egon stopped him.

“Ray, could I ask something?”

“Shoot, Egon.”

“Garfield has been seeming a lot hungrier than usual. She hangs around my feet a lot, and meows whenever I have food in my hand. Is that something unusual, or should we not worry about that as well?”

“Has she been snacking in between meals?”

“Not according to the plan. That’s what is unusual, she used to understand the feeding times. But now, it seems they’re getting jumbled to her. Like every time someone is in the kitchen, she needs to be fed. It’s most unusual.”

Egon didn’t catch the guilty look on Ray’s face.

“Timed meals?”

“Ray, I explained this at the beginning of her being with us.” He then dug around and took out another piece of paper, and pointed to it. “It should be dispersed throughout the day, so that she gets her needed vitamins and minerals.”

“Right. I remember now. Yeah, I don’t know, Egon,” he feigned a relaxed tone, “Maybe she’s just gotten comfortable with us and likes spending time with us?”

“Could be. In that case, disregard the question, Ray. Now that the rest of my day isn’t interrupted with editing her meal plan, I could get to isolating those fungus I’ve been growing in the incubator for the past few days.”

“Sounds interesting, Egon,” Ray made his way to the door, “Have fun with that.”

Once he stepped out of the room, he then thought about the amount of times he threw Garfield a crumb while eating. It couldn’t be that much, could it?

But it could have added up over time, especially since he did do it every single time he had a sandwich in the kitchen area.

Which was once a day for breakfast.

Oh God. Egon was right. Perhaps Garfield was snacking too much. But it couldn’t just be from him.

Maybe the others were feeding him too?

He should just ignore it. After all, snacks couldn’t hurt a kitten.

What he didn’t see was Egon looking at him from his desk.

Egon could sense an odd tone in Ray’s voice. While he didn’t know what it was at the moment, he had a feeling from years of studying people that Ray was perhaps hiding something. And it may have had to do with Garfield’s sudden weight gain.

Fungus be damned, he had to investigate this outside variable and see what was happening. 

---------------------------------

He decided to spend a lot more time in the living room, simply observing the kitchen. It would look weird if he was only staring at the kitchen for multiple hours a day, so he decided to bring out some books and PKE logs and use the living room table to do research.

To give off the impression that he was deeply engrossed in his work, he brought out his headphones. However, he fitted them on loosely so that he could still catch the sounds of his surroundings.

The others didn’t seem to mind him.

Winston was the first in the kitchen. It was around noon, and he was heating up some leftovers. Egon glanced up from his work to see that Garfield was at his feet, meowing similar to what she was doing the other day.

“Hiya, Garf,” he cooed, placing the bowl in the microwave and punching some buttons. The microwave hummed as it heated up the food. “You hungry? I’ll put you some food. Hope you like Chinese.”

He then took the bowl out of the microwave. With a napkin, he grabbed three pieces of meat and placed it on the floor. Garfield happily launched herself at the food, sniffing it first and then chewing it.

Winston sat on the kitchen table, then glanced up at Egon.

“Hey, Egon. Something up with the lab?”

Egon stopped writing his observations and gave a small wave. Then, he went back to his work.

Winston shrugged, then went back to his meal. He was used to Egon doing multiple hours of research at this point. Hopefully, he remembered to eat.

To be sure, Winston made a simple sandwich once he was finished eating. He tapped Egon’s shoulder, who looked up.

“Do you need something, Winston?”

Winston held out the plate with the sandwich on it. “Make sure you eat. I know it’s the last thing you think about while researching.”

Egon accepted the plate. “Thank you. That is very considerate of you.”

“Mayo on one slice, and mustard on the other. Just the way you like it.”

Winston then left the room, and within a minute, Garfield was already at the table, her pupils widening as she eagerly stared at the sandwich.

“No. And the eyes won’t work. It’s an adaptation housecats take in order to appear more cute. The other may be fooled, but I pride myself on being stronger than that.” 

And with that, he took a bite of the sandwich and went back to his work while ignoring Garfield’s desperate meows.

---------------------------------

Next was Ray. He saw Egon at the living room table, engrossed in his work.

Did Egon perhaps catch on to his lie yesterday? Ray was a bit nervous, and walked over to Egon.

He wasn’t usually out of the lab. Was he perhaps doing surveillance?

He decided to inquire just to quell his nerves.

“Hey, Spengs.”

Egon didn’t hear him, and was writing down something quickly and punching the buttons of his calculator. Ray decided to try again.

“Spengs.”

Nothing again.

However, this was only part-true. Egon did see Ray, but decided to play more into the act. He was busy, but he didn’t want to give off the vibe that he was people-watching.

“Egon!”

Now Egon decided to answer. “Yes, Ray?” he asked innocently. He put down the pencil and folded his hands.

Now Ray felt bad about interrupting. Egon did look busy. Maybe he was just doing research.

“What are you doing out here? Usually don’t see you out here.”

Egon was horrible at lying, so he already had a well-rehearsed answer, courtesy of the small hand-held mirror he kept in his drawer.

“I had to change the lab lightbulb, and I don’t like working in white light. And we ran out of the yellow light ones. So, I came here cause the lighting is better and isn’t a strain on my eyes.”

“Oh.” Now Ray felt really bad. “How’s the research going?”

“It’s fairly good. PKE logs have been at a normal level lately. No major spikes, which is always good news.”

Ray relaxed a bit. “That’s good. Have you eaten yet? I know how you get during research.”

Egon went back to his calculations. “Winston made me a sandwich earlier, so I will be good for now.”

“Alright then.”

Ray gave him a thumbs up, then went over to the kitchen to prepare himself a sandwich. Garfield went to his feet, eagerly meowing for a slice of baloney.

Ray looked over his shoulder to see if Egon was looking up.

Nope. Still with his nose in the books.

Ray then turned his back towards Egon and slipped Garfield a piece of baloney.

“Here ya go,” he whispered as Garfield instantly devoured the slice.

He then went back to sit at the table, with a horrible feeling in his gut.

Egon indeed saw the whole thing, and made another note.

He then continued to do this for another week, and after the weigh-in, he would then have a talk with the others.

Part 9

The week of observation was certainly… enlightening to say the least.

First, it taught him that Garfield was getting an extra 300 calories a day. According to the books, kittens around 12 weeks, which was Garfield’s age at this point, should only be eating a maximum of 360. So she definitely was overeating.

And it was showing. This week, she had gained 8 ounces. Way more than was healthy for a cat. And at this point, Garfield was no longer starving, so the extra calories from before were no longer needed. Even Egon took this into account by lowering the calories he was feeding her since she no longer needed to build body mass.

The second was that Garfield had everyone in this firehouse wrapped around her little paw when it came to feeding her snacks. And in his observation, Egon noticed Peter had now taken a liking to the kitten.

He wouldn’t approach that now. Right now, everyone was letting Garfield excessively snack, and it was disrupting his health plan for the kitten.

So, instead of sending memos, because no one read those (except Ray and Winston, for which Egon was grateful), he decided to call them into a meeting in the living room.

The notice was definitely unexpected, and all of them shuffled into the living room, unaware of why the meeting was called. Winston and Ray made themselves comfortable on the couch, while Janine grabbed a chair from the kitchen table.

“Why do you think Egon called us?” Winston asked Janine.

Janine placed her chair besides Winston. “No clue. What about you two?”

Ray just shook his head. “No clue! I am absolutely unaware,” he said with a weak chuckle.

“You did something, didn’t you?” Winston asked.

Peter then walked in and plopped himself on the couch, putting his feet up on the coffee table, which was scratched beyond belief.

“Stantzy, did you take something from Egon’s snack stash?”

“No,” Ray answered.

“Or feed it to that disgusting slimeball you guys have locked up?”

“Absolutely not,” Ray scratched the back of his neck, “I learned from the last time I did that.”

“What I would pay to see that lecture Egon gave you again,” Peter chuckled, “I don’t think I’d ever seen him that pissed off.”

“Me neither,” Ray recalled with some embarrassment.

“Then what are you nervous about, Ray?” Janine asked.

Egon then entered the room, holding Garfield in his arms. He made eye contact with Ray, and Ray gulped in response.

Peter noticed the interaction. “Oh boy, Ray, you really pissed him off,” he teased.

Egon grabbed a chair and sat down, placing Garfield on his lap.

---------------------------------

“I’m glad you are all here,” Egon held up Garfield in the air, “Notice anything different about Garfield?”

Peter got up and walked over to Egon. He tilted his eyes and locked eyes with Garfield, looking the kitten up and down. He then shook his head.

“Nope,” he answered, crossing his arms as he headed back to his seat on the couch. “You know, Egon, I’m missing a Golden Girls rerun right now, so this better be important than staring at some stupid kitten.”

“Since when do you watch Golden Girls?” Winston asked.

“Since they always aired the reruns of older episodes before that psychic bit I did on TV. Got used to watching them in my dressing room.”

“I forgot you did that,” Ray laughed. “I think I tuned in to one episode, then turned it off.”

Peter held a hand to his chest, mimicking being shot. “Raymond, I’m hurt-”

“Gentlemen! And Janine,” Egon shouted in a deadpan tone.

They all turned to Egon, who still had a neutral expression despite the annoyance clearly apparent in his overall demeanour.

“I’ll get straight to it since I don’t want this to take forever. Garfield’s gotten overweight, and it’s unhealthy for her.”

“That’s it?” Peter raised an eyebrow. “I mean, we named her Garfield, and you’re surprised she eats a lot?”

“She’s not eating a lot of her own accord,” Here, Egon gestured to everyone in the room, “You all are overfeeding her.”

Everyone glanced at each other, muttering about how they didn’t feed her that much. Ray kept from this, again trying to avoid eye contact with Egon.

“I made a list of all the items that Garfield ate, in addition to the two meals a day that is fed to her according to the diet plan I made.”

He held up a piece of paper.

Peter grinned and turned a side glance to Ray. “So this is what you were nervous about?”

“The diet plan was made so that Garfield could build up body mass because she was experiencing malnutrition. However, what is clear,” again he held up Garfield, “is that she is no longer starving. She no longer needs to build up body mass. So, she’s becoming slightly overweight. While it isn’t a cause for alarm, it does need to be nipped in the bud.”

“What’s wrong with her having some extra body fat?” Winston asked. “Isn’t that good? It means she’s no longer skinny and bony like she was before.” He pointed to the kitten. “I remember feeling the ribcage every time I held her.”

Janine nodded in agreement. “Besides, kittens that have a little fat are adorable.”

Egon then gestured to the paper. “That’s not the point. Not to mince words, but you guys are feeding her unhealthy junk. 300 extra calories of it. She’s basically eating for two cats.”

Winston sucked in a breath between his teeth. “Damn, when you say it like that, it does sound bad.”

Egon adjusted his glasses. “It isn’t good for a developing kitten. Hence, why I wanted to address the issue.”

Peter raised a hand. Egon rolled his eyes. 

“I’m going to hate entertaining this, but yes, Peter?”

Peter lowered his hand. “Thank you. Isn’t you criticizing unhealthy eating habits the pot calling the kettle black?” With a snicker, he added, “I mean, don’t you go through a box of Twinkies every two weeks?”

Everyone then turned to look at Egon.

“I was right,” Egon took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of nose, “Ignoring my snacking habits, I have the decision to eat those things. Garfield, right now, is intellectually equivalent to a toddler. She will just eat whatever people give her, no matter what.”

He then unfolded the piece of paper.

“Shall I read the list and then we can consider whether we would feed a toddler under our care the same exact things?”

---------------------------------

Ray elbowed Peter right in the stomach. “Goddamn it, Peter, next time keep your mouth shut.”

“Fuck Ray, that hurt!” Peter nursed his side. “Besides, why are your boxers in a twist? Were you feeding the damn cat Big Macs or something?”

“Stop fighting you two, let the man read his list,” Winston sighed. “Unlike Peter, I actually have something to do that isn’t watching TV, and I don’t want to be here all day.”

He then looked at Egon. “Go right ahead.”

“Thank you, Winston. We’ll start with Ray. Half a hamburger-”

Peter burst into laughter. “You son of a bitch, you were!”

He leaned forward, putting his head between his knees as he continued giggling. The sounds soon filled the room as Peter started tearing up from how much his stomach was hurting.

“Damn Stantzy, that’s cat has got you under her little paw- Ow, ow, stop i-it-it!”

Ray again elbowed Peter with force in the stomach, forcing Peter to stop laughing as it petered out and was replaced with the sharp pain in his stomach.  

“Five whole shrimps from Monday’s takeout, 4 slices of baloney, two sticks of beef jerky, and another half of a cheeseburger,” Egon finished.

Everyone stared at Ray.

“Ray, you’re overfeeding the poor thing,” Janine said above the noise of Peter tisking his tongue in shame.

Peter shook a finger in Ray’s face, “What do you have to say to yourself?”

Ray avoided eye contact. “Every time she looked at me, I saw the same look in her eyes that I saw that night when we found her.”

The room fell silent.

“Oh shit,” Winston whispered, and Peter echoed the sentiment silently.

Egon was somewhat taken aback by the answer that he let go of Garfield, who jumped off his lap.

Ray continued, “I feel bad about lying to you, Egon, and going off the plan. I already made that point about her weight not being a concern, but then you mentioned her being confused about the feeding times. I felt guilty because that was mainly my fault. So, I didn’t say anything.”

He saw Garfield at his feet, and picked her up. He scratched her chin.

“But I just was thinking about her happiness. I didn’t want her to think that she was still on the street, starving to death. Perhaps I took it a bit overboard.”

He lowered his head. “And for that, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Egon, for also lying to you.”

The room then went silent again. Egon rubbed his chin, and then finally broke it.

“I believe I understand your logic, Ray. As flawed as it is, it makes sense given how close you are to Garfield and that you were the one to find her that night.” Egon then pushed his chair closer. “However, overfeeding her is still not good for her. If you would like, I still intend to stick to my diet plan. If you would like, you can feed her during those times.”

“Really?” Ray was petting Garfield as he looked up.

“It would be good for her, and for you as well, since you can still retain that feeling that you were chasing. Does that sound fine?”

“That sounds great for me.”

Peter then pat Ray on the back.
“And sorry for making fun of you,” he muttered. “That was kind of a dick move.”

Although the apology was weak, everyone understood the sentiment behind it.

“Well, that’s the end of the meeting, right?” Peter rose from his seat. “I missed Golden Girls, but hopefully I can catch a rerun of the Bob Newhart Show.”

“Actually,” Egon pointed to the paper. “Ray wasn’t the only guilty party.”

“Holy shit, how much has this kitten been eating?” Winston asked.

---------------------------------

Egon’s glance went to Janine. “I now turn to Janine.”

“Don’t tell me Janine is a lot worse,” Peter said.

“On the contrary. For Janine, it was mainly small pieces of meat.”

Janine looked proud. “See, nothing too serious, so I don’t think we have to worry-”

“It was brisket, which is smoked, and if consumed often, is also unhealthy for Garfield.”

Peter sniggered at watching Janine’s smile dropped.

She then crossed her arms. “Fine, I have been feeding her brisket. I have a lot of leftovers. And I can’t eat that much. And she always sits by my desk, and I felt bad cause she looks so cute.” She looked fondly at the kitten, who was playing with Ray’s shoelaces.

Egon cleared his throat.

Janine snapped back into reality. “But I’ll stop, Egon, if you say so.”

“Thank you, Janine.”

At this, Janine beamed.

Winston raised a hand. “Wait, where are you getting brisket from? And is it good brisket?”

Janine laughed. “It should be good. My bubbe makes it for Shabbat dinner.”

“Could I possibly get some?”

“Why the interest in my bubbe’s brisket?”

“I had a friend in my old neighborhood and his grandmother made the best brisket in the world. She used Cola in it apparently.”

“Bubbe does the same. I’ll bring some in a Tupperware next Monday if you would like, Winston.”

“You got a deal.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Peter butted in, “Why don’t you ever bring me brisket, Janine?”

Janine scowled. “Because I like Winston better, Peter.”

“I’m hurt, Janine,” Peter placed a hand over his heart, “Really, Janine, I am.”

Ignoring Janine’s eyeroll at Peter, Egon then turned his glance to Winston.

“You’re the same, but with leftovers.”

“I’ll put a pause to it, Egon.”

“Well, that was simple.” Egon folded the piece of paper. “Meeting is adjourned.”

“Wait, what about Peter?” Winston asked. “Has he not been feeding the kitten?”

Egon rose from his seat, “No. Peter doesn’t like Garfield, so why would he?”

Here, Peter noticed something odd about Egon’s inflection here. It was rare for Egon to change his inflection, so he definitely caught it. That, and the psychology Ph.D. he slept through sometimes came in handy.

“Now if you excuse me, that is enough lecturing. I’m going to be in my lab watering my fungus if anyone needs me.”

He was about to exit the room, but then Peter stopped him.

“Hey, wait a minute, Egon.”

He then stopped himself. Fuck, why did he bring attention to it?

Now everyone’s eyes were on him.

Guess he was ripping off that Band-Aid now.

Part 10

Egon turned around. “Yes, Peter?”

Peter felt his mouth go dry as he felt the eyes glued to him. He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Never mind. Just forget it.”

He sighed loudly and turned around to walk out. But something stopped him.

Nope. Don’t be a coward, Venkman. Come on. Rip the Band-Aid off.

He then turned back to face everyone, hands in his pockets.

“Peter, are you okay?” Janine was somewhat worried because of the grave expression on Peter’s face.

“Fine. I’ll say it. I am afraid of cats.”

The room was silent, and then broken by a “Huh?” from Ray.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to press on, Egon? Fine, I’ll say it,” Peter raised his hands up, almost like in surrender, “I am afraid of cats. And dogs. The damn things give me anxiety. That’s why I didn’t like Garfield. At first. That’s why I was acting all scared and fidgety towards her initially.”

Egon spoke up, “Peter, I merely-”

Peter then saw that Garfield was now at his feet. He bent down to pick up the kitten.

“But then I saw her eyes. And I get it Ray. I get why you’re so damn overprotective of her. She was alone. She was scared. And it sorta hit home.” He mumbled the last part.

But then he spoke up. “She reminded me of me. And how all your friendships have saved me. And how I value all of you guys. And then I could see how she felt when you rescued her, Ray. And that perhaps I should be a bit nicer. So, I trained myself to get used to her. And although it is still very anxiety-inducing, I’m not afraid of her anymore.”

He then brought her close to his chest. “Besides, she’s kinda cute.”

The sight was certainly something to behold, Janine thought. Peter Venkman, with an adorable kitten in his arms.

Egon then stepped up. “Peter, the inflection in my tone was not meant to be antagonistic towards you. I had noticed the change and was curious to see what caused it. However, I should not have pressed on since it seemed to be a source of anxiety for you.”

Peter waved a hand. “Actually, Egon, for once, your curiosity is not killing the cat this time.”

Garfield meowed in protest, and he playfully tapped her on the head. “Not you, kid.”

Peter continued, “You’re right. I was being silly. Instead of just telling you guys, I got all worked up for no reason. I just bottled up my worries and work them out on my own. Unhealthy, but it’s how I’ve dealt with shit throughout my life. All of this could have been solved if I had enough smarts to just speak up. But I didn’t.”

Ray finally spoke up, “We’re sorry for making fun of you, Peter. From what we saw, you were just reacting overdramatically to a small kitten. Had I know, I would have taken better care to keep her away from you.”

“But next time, man, please just tell us instead of having us all confused,” Winston leaned against the chair next to the couch. “You really had us worried there.”

Peter rubbed the back of his neck and looked at all three Ghostbusters. “All right, Moms. I’ll make sure of it.”

Egon adjusted his glasses. “So now that you’re no longer frightened of her, you can assist in taking care of her.”

“Huh?”

“We’ve been taking of her for the past few weeks because you insisted on keeping a 2 feet radius from her,” Ray crossed his arms, “Now you gotta step up, bud.”

“Guys,” Peter held Garfield a bit tighter, “Like I said, it’s a work in progress. Still afraid of her, but I’m working towards it. Exposure therapy takes a while, guys.”

“Give up, Peter,” Winston stepped in between Egon and Ray, “Refuse, and they know how to sabotage your proton pack.”

Peter glared at them. “You wouldn’t.”

“I could tear apart the proton packs and build them back in my sleep. With one hand tied behind my back,” Egon shot back. “Try me.”

“At least empty her litter box,” Ray demanded.

Peter looked at Winston. “Hey, Winston, are you gonna help me?”

Winston shrugged. “Nope.”

“All right then. I surrender.” Peter walked towards them, and Egon and Ray relaxed.

“There we go,” Ray clapped a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Kidding!”

With Garfield in his hands, Peter shot down the stairs. Egon and Ray went after him.

Winston and Janine hung around the stairs to listen to the shouting downstairs.
“You can’t catch me alive, boys!”

“Venkman, I will give you a lobotomy!”

“Do you know what it feels like to dump out litter in a dumpster during a New York winter morning, Peter? Now you have to suffer!”

“Run faster, why don’t ya! Unless the pizza and Cheezits are weighing you guys down and you can’t be as nimble as me!”

“Ray, get the proton gun!”

“Now wait, Egon, it doesn’t work on humans!”

“That can be arranged, me and Egon have been needing a human test subject!”

“Winstonnnnnnnn! Janineeeeeeeee!”

Winston turned to Janine. “Should we help him?”

Janine shook her head. “I could tell you my bubbe’s recipe for her brisket.”

“I’d love it.”