It's time for installment number six of the Conversations series. This one was a lot of fun to write; I hope it's just as much fun for you to read! Please, enjoy - and feel free to let me know what you think!

"You have got to be kidding."

"Startled by my perfection, I see."

"Not in this lifetime, buddy."

"Ah, sweet denial."

"Why are you even here? Don't you have other places to be, other people to annoy?"

"When this is so much more fun?"

In one swift move, a small, delicate hand snapped out and whacked the brown-headed man across the back of the head. "Don't push it, Venkman. I don't care if we are in the middle of a dance club, murder is still an option. I'm sure any court in the land would consider it justifiable homicide."

The seated man rubbed the sore spot the redheaded woman standing next to him had just created and glared up at her. "You act as though this is exactly how I planned on spending my Friday night off. Give me a break, Melnitz."

She smirked. "Flavor of the month backed out on you, huh? Like I didn't see that one coming."

The man's stare turned icy. "Go to hell, Janine."

That statement's total departure from the normal give and take the two friendly adversaries shared made Janine stand up straight and really look at her employer. "Peter, what's wrong?" she finally asked as she sat in one of the open chairs at the table the psychologist was sitting at. "What happened with Yvonne?"

In response, Peter merely gestured toward the filling dance floor and took a long drink from the bottle of beer that had been resting in front of him. The secretary's eyes followed the casually offered motion and examined the couples that were dancing cheek to cheek to the ballad that was playing through the establishment. Then they stopped cold, recognition causing her to gasp and nearly leap to her feet. "Who in the hell is that she's dancing with?" she hissed to her companion, leaning over the table instead of following her first impulse to jump up and pound Yvonne into a puddle of goo on the black-tiled floor. Wouldn't exactly be fair to the other dancers.

If she thought his gaze had been cold before, it was the precursor to an ice age now. "Doctor Brian Turner."

"Who's Doctor Brian Turner, and why do I get the feeling this is an extremely bad thing?"

"Bad is one way to put it. Complete asshole is another." He took another swallow of his beer. "Reader's Digest version: he's the guy that had my gadget at that psychic fair you and Ray went to a few months back."

Sapphire blue eyes widened behind the green-framed glasses. "You're kidding." One look at the sharpened features of the man to her left confirmed everything. "So what's he doing here with your girlfriend?"

"Yvonne's the one that set this night up. Said she wanted to be comfortable when we talked." The muscles in Peter's jaw twitched almost violently as he struggled to stay in control of himself. "So we talked. The spark had been sputtering out anyway, so we decided to call it quits, all friendly-like. We danced one last time, and she asked me if I'd be okay seeing her with another guy." His throat seemed to close completely against anything else he might say, and he finished off the last of the bottle.

"Why in the world are you still here if she's decided to rub it in your face like this?" Janine asked, bewildered. Peter had his pride, as she and the other Ghostbusters knew only too well. It wasn't like him to punish himself like this over a woman he hadn't even been all that serious about.

Emerald green eyes nearly darkened to black flashed dangerously as they turned back to the redhead. "I refuse to give Doctor Wannabe the satisfaction of seeing me leave."

Okay, so pride was the issue - just at a different target. "You're still satisfying him, you know. I'm sure he can see how upset you are."

"But it's pissing him off like you wouldn't believe that I won't retreat. I can see it on his face every time he looks at me." His grin was feral.

"Dr. V., you are a pompous ass. Is pride that important to you?"

"What do you think, Janine? How long have you known me again?"

Janine narrowed her eyes at the exasperating man and contrived to read the man she secretly thought of as an older brother as her glare told him what she thought of his questions. "This has absolutely nothing to do with Yvonne, does it?" she asked finally.

That caught Peter by surprise. "What?" he asked, his irises lightening to their normal shade.

"I'm willing to bet the pittance you pay me that you told Yvonne you'd have no problem with seeing her with another guy - and you meant every word. And had it been any other guy, you might have been a bit hurt, but you would have gotten over it pretty quickly. You've only been seeing this girl for two weeks, Peter, and not even that often. You don't fall that fast, and you haven't been praising her to the skies at every turn like you normally do when you're having a really great time with someone. It's Turner that's the problem here, isn't it?" She smirked knowingly as she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest.

"The bastard learned everything from his father, I swear," Peter muttered with a brief glare toward the tall, lanky man wearing a loose peasant-style shirt in grey silk along with tight-fitting black jeans that was still dancing with his ex-girlfriend. "Can we not talk about this?" he said directly to his secretary, his defensive shields coming up with a vengeance and screaming "keep away!" from every taut muscle.

Hurt flashed across her expression before Janine's own defenses went up. "Excuse me for giving a shit, you selfish, self-centered son of a bitch!" she hissed lowly as she leaned forward once again. "I didn't come here to deal with you anyway!"

"So why in the hell are you here?" Peter retorted, reeling from the woman's words as though they'd landed physical blows.

"Debbie's boyfriend Michael asked me to meet him here in about a half hour, as if you really care."

The psychologist sat and stared at the infuriated woman for a long moment, taking note of every nuance of her body language, then looked out and watched the pair that had kept him planted at his table for the last hour and a half. A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth as he noticed the taller man's receding hairline and ran a hand through his own thick locks in triumph, however small it was. Then he turned back to the woman who, amazingly enough, hadn't left in a huff. Boy, he really had hurt her, hadn't he? "After Ray told me he saw the zapper I used at Columbia and who he guessed was running the experiment, I did a little digging. It seems bright boy out there just picked up a bachelor's degree in parapsychology. I'm only guessing he was showing off his final project," he explained finally.

"So why exactly are you so pissed? You abandoned that project, didn't you?" Janine's posture relaxed slightly as she struggled to understand this complicated man's reasoning.

Peter squirmed a bit. "Well, yeah. I had to. We got kicked out of Columbia, and I didn't have a whole lot of solid data to work with to publish. So I just filed my notes away and forgot about it."

The redhead released a frustrated breath. "Just get to the point, Dr. Venkman."

"Okay, okay. I looked through my journals and found the article he published based on that experiment. There were a couple other articles mentioned in the author's notes, so I looked them up, too. It seems he's been trying to debunk theories I've presented, which is irritating, but not rage-inducing."

"I beg to differ," the secretary interrupted with a knowing look. "You were definitely raging after you read those articles. Just remember where my desk is."

Peter grinned. "All right, you got me. I'm not happy about it. But there's nothing I can do about it but hope that my work stands. Not that I wouldn't mind pounding his face in..."

"I know, I know. You were saying?"

"Well, he came in here tonight while Yvonne was in the bathroom and got in my face." His muscles began to tighten anew. "He's managed to talk the board that's been reviewing my paper on the psychology of human reactions to the unknown to take another look at it. He's saying I plagiarized it from something he wrote three years ago." Unconsciously, his fists clenched as his earlier rage welled up once again.

Janine reached out quickly and placed her hand on his arm. "Isn't that the paper that's got you up for the American Psychology Association's Man of the Year, or whatever they call it?"

"That's the one," the psychologist replied through clenched teeth.

"But you didn't! You wouldn't!"

"You and I know that, but the board bought enough of Turner's bullshit to take another look. Who knows what they're going to come up with? And if they decide I did plagiarize it..." His voice trailed off as understanding blossomed in the bright azure eyes before him.

"That would be nasty." She eyed him up. "And why haven't you beaten this man within an inch of his life yet?"

"We both saw Yvonne coming back from the bathroom, and his last snaky whisper before he rushed over to meet her was that if I touched him I'd just prove his point - and he'd thoroughly enjoy seeing me behind bars." He met her gaze. "It was his first point that stopped me. Because I think the joy of seeing him in intensive care would be worth some jail time. But I couldn't do that to the guys."

"And the bastard knows it. So what do we do now?"

Janine's fierce defense and declaration of support made things a little easier to deal with. "All we can do now is wait. And hope he gets hit by a bus."

"What is up with his obsession with you anyway? Doesn't he have anything better to do?"

"Oh, he's been like this ever since Columbia. He graduated the same year as Ray, a psych major. I don't know why he focused on me, but he kept trying to buddy up. Then he tried to do the same research as I did. He never went so far as to stalk me or anything, but the imitation factor was there. When I heard he'd published a book on violence trends around the globe I figured he'd finally gotten over it. But I guess not." Peter's nose crunched up with distaste for a moment before he chuckled lightly. "He even went so far as to date some of my ex-girlfriends. The guy's always been borderline certifiable."

"So he's trying to rub in the fact that he's with an old girlfriend again, huh? We'll have to see what we can do about that." An evil glint sparked up in her eyes as a wicked smile transformed her features. "And about everything else," she added in a low murmur. "I'm gonna go outside for a bit and make a phone call," she continued normally before Peter could question the muttered statement. "What you need to do now is stop feeling sorry for yourself and pour on the so-called Venkman charm. You're single. There are some beautiful single women here. Fix that."

The brown-haired man grinned widely, his eyes showing how grateful he was for her efforts. "You always have considered handing out boots to the backside as an unofficial part of your job description, haven't you?"

"You better believe it, buster. Now get out there and foist yourself on some other unsuspecting female. I've got things to do."

Peter rose to his feet and laughed. "You got it, Janine. And thanks."

Janine watched him head back to the bar with a warm smile, then headed for the door and the payphone to be found just outside. If she was right, this plan just might work. But first to make her call...

An hour and a half later, Peter headed toward the tables surrounding the dance floor to take a rest. He'd been dancing with a delectable blonde woman for about fifteen minutes after talking with her for another half hour before that, but she wanted to talk to the friends she had come with for a while - after she handed him a napkin with seven large numbers scrawled across it in pen. He could still see the bright, inviting twinkle in her light hazel eyes as she placed it in his hand, making sure there was a lingering touch. Tonight hadn't been nearly as awful as it could have been.

And he saw the reason for that sitting alone at a table against the back wall of the place, a worried expression darkly settled on her features as she stared at the tabletop. He changed directions immediately and arrived next to her chair in no time at all. "Did you really miss me all that much? I'm flattered."

"Don't be. It only means I haven't been to the range in a while."

Peter sat down in the open seat beside her, noticing how she never changed position. "So, Big J, what's up? Is it time for me to reciprocate with the big boot?"

"I told you I was supposed to meet Michael here, right? Debbie's boyfriend?"

"Yeah, the guy that's always glomming onto that cute little brunette that took you to the Wren Taylor concert. What about it?"

Janine sighed and took off her glasses to rub her eyes. "He doesn't think he wants to be with her anymore. He says he's interested in someone else and wanted my opinion."

"So what did you tell him?" the brown-haired man asked as she replaced her eyewear.

"I told him to be honest with her. What else could I say?" She sighed again.

"Let me guess. You don't think Debbie's gonna take this well, do you?" It was more a statement than a question.

The secretary brought her head up finally. "I don't know what's going to happen, actually. That's what's got me worried. I think it's all going to depend on who this other person is that he's interested in."

Peter cocked his head to the side. "I take it they've been having some relationship problems?"

She snorted in wry amusement. "You could say that."

"It's gotta be tough to be caught in the middle between two friends like this."

The pair shared a serious look. "I'm afraid he's going to ask me to tell her. That's why I'm over here. He had to take a phone call, and I had to think."

"You have got to be kidding me. The Mighty Melnitz is hiding, running away scared?" The psychologist's expression reflected his disbelief. "I always thought you were tougher than that."

"Hey, watch it, bub! I'm not running away from anything!"

"Oh, yeah? Well, that's what it looks like from where I'm sitting. He needs to know that you're willing to help out, be a shoulder to cry on and all that, but he's gotta do his own dirty work. Put your foot down. You certainly don't hesitate to do that with me." His belligerent look was a direct challenge.

Janine narrowed her eyes as she returned the glare. "You may be right, but don't think you're gonna get away with it. Just you wait and see." She practically jumped to her feet and stalked off toward the bar. Peter watched her go with a huge grin. Now that was the Janine Melnitz he was used to.

Fifteen minutes later, his gaze returned to where he had seen the feisty redhead settle in to talk to a tall, broad-shouldered hulk of a man with close-cropped white-blond hair. The big guy was at that moment gripping Janine by the shoulders, leaning in close and talking to her intensely. The smaller woman didn't look all that comfortable with it, but she wasn't struggling. But something didn't sit right with him. Peter got up and made his way over to the pair unobtrusively. He needed to know what was going on with the woman he considered his little sister.

"...gotta understand, Janine," Michael was saying as Peter finally got close enough to hear the conversation. "You're something special. You're a blinding star that warmed my heart more than Debbie ever could. Don't you get it? I want to be with you."

"But, Michael, Debbie's my friend. Even if I was interested in you that way, I could never do that to her. Just let it go."

"You may not be interested in me that way now, but if I were with you I know you would be. You've got to give me that chance!"

"Doesn't Debbie matter at all to you?" Peter could hear the utter disbelief in the woman's tone, and felt a slight echo of it himself. What happened to being so devoted he couldn't stay away from her? Janine had told him that had been Debbie's biggest problem, Michael's inability to give her space. And now he was after Janine?

"Well, yeah, of course. But only as a friend. She'd understand. I know she would."

There was a long pause where Peter could feel the heat from a Melnitz glare, even if he couldn't quite see it from where he'd placed himself to eavesdrop without being noticed. "Let go of me, Michael." Wow. If he could bottle that tone, Peter wouldn't need to keep ice cream in the freezer.

"Not until you finish hearing me out. You've gotta give me a chance, Janine."

Okay, that was it. Peter couldn't just listen any more. "Excuse me, why are you holding onto my girlfriend like that?" he said as he slipped between the two people that had been shielding him from sight and stood next to the now-astonished secretary.

"She doesn't have a boyfriend," Michael replied belligerently, although there was doubt in his light blue eyes.

Janine was staring at him, leaving the ball in Peter's court. "Of course she does. Me. Just because she hasn't told you doesn't mean it's not true. Now I believe the lady asked you to let go."

The redhead's eyes narrowed slightly. Apparently she wasn't the only one with the ability to freeze an opponent with words. "I'm not hurting her," Michael said when he got his voice back.

"No, but you're still holding her when she doesn't want you to. And I know I don't want you to." Peter cracked his knuckles suggestively.

The meaty paws immediately lifted. "I'm not looking for trouble here. I was just talking to her." He narrowed his gaze. "Wait a minute. Don't I know you?"

"Took you long enough," Janine muttered, taking a step closer to Peter and crossing her arms over her chest. She had to fight not to jump when the psychologist slipped an almost possessive arm around her waist.

"I'd hope so," Peter replied to the question directed to him. Janine recognized the smile that went with the statement as one he reserved for slimy clients and government officials like Walter Peck. "I'm Doctor Peter Venkman. I'm famous."

"You're the boss Janine's had a thing for?" Michael blurted, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. "I thought you weren't supposed to be interested."

There was a sparkle of amusement in the dark green depths, although Janine wasn't sure Michael would recognize it as such. "Janine's a special lady. That's why I'm here with her now." He gave her a squeeze. The redhead was torn between being grateful for his intervention, angry at his actions, and thoroughly amused at the situation. Michael's face was priceless.

But then that expression turned skeptical. The blond narrowed his eyes and scowled. "I think there's something up here. She was too surprised to see you. Now get out of my way. We were having a discussion."

"Hold on a second," Peter said, holding up the hand that wasn't lightly resting on Janine's right hip. "I'm not looking for trouble tonight, either. You know Janine, right? If I wasn't close to her, do you think I could get away with something like this?"

Janine watched with widening eyes as the psychologist turned to face her completely, laid his left hand gently against her right cheek, and bent down to kiss her full on the lips. The only thing that saved him from a knee to the groin was the wink he gave her just before making contact. But as her arms slid around his waist and her eyes fell shut she had to admit, the man could kiss!

After a moment that lingered a bit longer than absolutely necessary – she'd get him for that later - he raised his head and pulled her close with another wink, wrapping his arms around her and turning his head to once again look at the flabbergasted man. "Have I made my point yet? Now go away. I'm pretty sure your conversation with Janine is over."

Michael blinked a few times before accepting begrudging defeat. "Yeah, fine. I guess I'll talk to you later, Janine."

"You better head straight over and talk to Debbie," Janine said sharply, her head snapping up from where she had been letting it rest against Peter's chest to maintain the charade. The brown-haired man let his hold fall away to give her the room to deal with this guy as she saw fit. "You won't like what I'll do to you if you don't." The big man merely looked at the finger the petite woman had poked at his chest and left without saying another word.

"Well, that was entertaining," Peter said with a grin once they were sure Michael was gone.

Janine spun to face him with her fists on her hips. "That is going to earn you some serious payback, mister. I can't believe you actually kissed me!"

His grin got wider. "You liked it. Admit it."

"I'm not admitting anything. And you better not say one single word to the other guys. I'd never hear the end of it!"

"Who says you will anyway?"

"I oughta deck you." The pair stared at each other for a long moment, blue eyes flashing with outrage and green eyes twinkling with mischief. And then the storm calmed. "Thanks, Peter. I wasn't sure how to make him get the point without some serious violence. He just wouldn't take no for an answer."

Peter's expression lightened into a friendly smile. "Anytime. And the last thing I wanted was to get into it with a bruiser like that. He could have done some serious damage. That's not even counting the bar and everyone else." He waggled his eyebrows. "It was fun, too."

Janine rolled her eyes. "I should have seen that one coming. Now go on and find that girl you were dancing with earlier. You don't want her to think you're with me, do you? And I want a chance with some of these fine specimens of the male half of the species. Go away, shoo."

"I'm going, I'm going. But remember, it's going to be awfully hard for any of these guys to compare to the glorious Peter Venkman." He laughed and hurried toward the dance floor before she could fulfill the threat he saw blossom in her face at the comment.

It was a few hours later when Peter watched Janine thread her way through the dancing throng and toward the table where he sat observing the shifting crowd with a content smile and a Brandy Alexander. He couldn't help but wonder what she was up to. "Couldn't resist me any longer?" he asked dramatically when she was close enough.

"Don't make me regret not lashing out earlier," she threatened as she took the only other chair that hadn't been confiscated for other groups at other tables. "So what happened to the blonde you've been with all night? Things not work out?"

It was funny how she could underlay such a sarcastic comment with true concern. She was learning. Peter smirked. "Things worked out just fine with Autumn. She gave me her phone number earlier tonight, but the rest of the girls she was with decided they wanted to leave a little while ago. They were her ride, so..." He shrugged.

Her eyebrows rose from behind the frames of her glasses. "I'm glad things went better than it looked like they would earlier. Not that they could have gone much worse."

He nodded. "True. Speaking of which, what were you talking to Yvonne about? I saw the two of you across the dance floor before you came over here. What's up?"

It was Janine's turn to let her expression get wicked. "Oh, well, since you helped me out with Michael, I thought I'd return the favor and help you deal with Turner."

"How?" Peter asked suspiciously.

"You'll see," she replied mysteriously.

Just then, a commotion started in the middle of the dance floor, and a space quickly cleared around a familiar couple. The chestnut-haired Yvonne faced off against the shocked-looking Brian Turner, and she looked outraged. "How dare you touch me like that! Leave me alone!" Her words rang out as the DJ turned off the music at the unexpected disruption.

"But, Yvonne..." His arm shot out as he reached for her.

With amazing precision, the brunette blocked the incoming limb, making it look like a defense against an attack. "I can't believe you'd hit me! And in public!"

"Yvonne!" He reached out again.

"He may have a doctorate, but he's not all that bright, is he?" Janine asked as the crowd was treated to the spectacle of Yvonne beating up Turner while making it look like she was merely defending herself.

"Well, that's just a given." Peter looked around the room and saw one of the bartenders on the phone. "The cops should be here soon."

Janine giggled as the mob started cheering the seeming avenging angel in their midst. "That should make Turner's night."

"So what did you say to her, anyway? She was looking pretty cozy with him before."

"As Winston would quote, 'And the truth shall set you free.'" The redhead grinned. "I told her what you told me, that Turner was using her to make you feel bad and everything else he was doing to you. She was feeling pretty guilty about what happened earlier and thought you'd been glaring at her all night. Well, when I explained the situation, she realized you'd been glaring at Turner and told me she'd take care of things to make it up to you. I guess this wasn't even really a date. She had mentioned to him that she might be here tonight, and he just showed up. When she saw you looking upset when she got out of the bathroom, she figured it would be better to hang around with Turner and let you cool off." Janine shrugged. "She wasn't nearly as bad as I thought she'd be. And I certainly never expected this." She gestured with her thumb toward the area where Yvonne was currently holding Turner in a painful-looking arm lock.

Peter sighed. "Now that I think about it, she did look pretty worried every time she glanced over at me." Then the corners of his mouth turned upward in a decidedly wicked expression. "But I guess you didn't know that Yvonne is a martial arts instructor - and she's worked with a bunch of theaters to choreograph mock battles."

The secretary blinked. "No, I'd have to say I missed that one, assuming you ever mentioned it. But I don't think I'm the only one who didn't know."

"He knows now. And I couldn't ask for any better form of revenge - at least not without getting caught." He winked at the woman beside him, and the two of them broke out laughing just as the police burst inside to break everything up.

The two friends laughed as they walked to where Janine had parked her car after having their statements taken by the police and being allowed to leave. "Did you see his face?" the redhead asked through a giggle.

"I don't think a tomato gets any redder," Peter chortled. "And seeing him taken away in cuffs did me a world of good. I feel better."

"I hope Yvonne doesn't end up with a ticket out of all this," Janine said seriously, her smile fading.

The psychologist gave her a nudge with his elbow. "Don't worry about it. She whispered to me right before we left that she didn't care if she did. And she apologized."

"So did you forgive her?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I could tell she meant it. She said she had been hoping for a friend of hers to show up – that's why she picked the club - but Turner did and kept maneuvering them close to me. I guess he wouldn't leave her alone."

Her look turned sharp as she watched him carefully. "So you're okay with this?"

"I still want Turner to get hit by a bus, and I'd have to say I'm not okay with the plagiarism bullshit, but as for what happened at the club..." He gave her a boyish smile that was completely sincere. "I'm cool with it, Janine. Thanks."

She returned the expression with one of her own. "Yeah, well, someone has to watch out for you. Trouble follows you around like a puppy."

"Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll tell you that after I talk to Debbie. What I'm worried about is saving my friendship with her." Janine sighed and pulled her brown wool jacket tighter around herself.

Peter snorted derisively. "Michael's isn't worth it, that's for sure. I'm sorry you had to find out this way, though." He hesitated as they reached her car and she walked around to the driver's side. "And I hope you aren't too mad at me for that kiss."

"Get in." She slid behind the wheel and unlocked the passenger side door. "Now explain to me why I'm supposed to be angry again?" she requested once he was inside and had shut the door.

He blinked at her. "It was you I kissed in there, right?"

"Oh, yeah," she replied with a wicked gleam in her eyes as she started the car.

"I know I was pushing it..."

"Of course you were. That's what you do. But you were also getting me out of an extremely awkward situation that could have easily turned into a barroom brawl without starting one. I know you well enough to understand that." She rolled her eyes as she drove along with the rest of the late night/early morning traffic toward Lower Manhattan.

There was a minute of silence as Peter just pondered that. "Well," he said finally, "I couldn't just let him bother my little sister, now could I? I'm just surprised that he didn't get the hint when you told him to let go. Even I don't mess with you when you sound like that."

Janine smothered a smile at the tender statement that was so quickly followed by the high-handed commentary. "Considering you're still alive to say that, I have to agree." It was her turn to hesitate. "Um, I hope you're not mad that I told Yvonne everything. I know I was kinda sticking my nose in..."

"Hey, you were doing what you thought would help. And it did," the man in the passenger seat said in swift absolution.

"I just never expected... that."

Peter chuckled. "Not surprising. I suppose you were thinking she'd just dump him or something, huh?"

The redhead blushed slightly. "Well, yeah."

"Yvonne has a major flair for the dramatic. It's why she enjoys working with the theater so much. But you couldn't have known. And just think of how much more satisfying this was." He grinned.

Janine couldn't help but giggle. "Oh, I hate it when you're right."

"Ah, more incentive. I love it."

"Putz."

It didn't take much longer for the little pink VW Beetle to reach its destination. "Thanks for the ride, Janine," Peter said as he reached for the door handle. "It was a bit cramped - I don't even wanna think about how Egon manages the ride - but it beats paying cab fare."

She hesitated for a second. "Thanks for backing me up tonight."

The brown-haired man paused without opening the door. "Tonight it was a little matter of reciprocity. You backed me up, too."

Janine grinned wryly. "Reciprocity? I think someone's been hanging around Egon too long." She laughed at the raised eyebrow that comment produced. "Okay, fine, I must have, too, or I wouldn't have got it."

"No, Janine," Peter said seriously. "You're too smart to have missed that, Egon or no Egon. And you always back me up. I want you to know that I know that."

"Just like you back me up. It's reciprocity, like you said." They gazed at each other warmly for a moment. "Now get out of my car before you make me waste all my gas."

He snorted, content at the return to the status quo. "Yeah, right. You can't fool me, Melnitz. I can see your gas gage, and you've got three-quarters of a tank."

She returned his grin. "Oh! I just thought of something. Your dad called right after you disappeared out the front door. Said he'd be in town for a few days and left a number for you to call. It's in an envelope on your desk. But I wouldn't call him until after lunch. He's, uh, got a meeting in the morning."

Emerald green eyes narrowed as they contemplated the flash of something that crossed her face. She knew something she wasn't telling, and it involved his dad. Peter sighed. He'd just have to pry it out of the old man when he called him. "Thanks for the message, Janine."

"You know, a new guy moved in just down the hall from me," the secretary commented nonchalantly as Peter finally opened the car door, making him suspend his motion to leave. "He's a bass player in a local band, and he invited me to come see them play next Friday at The Risque, that night club a few blocks from where we had so much fun tonight. You got that blonde's number, right?"

A knowing smile began to transform Peter's features. "Yeah, in my pocket."

"I guess they're supposed to be pretty good. You might want to think about checking them out. I know I am."

"I'll think about it. Next Friday, huh?" He smirked when she nodded. "I'll have to give Autumn a call. Are you coming in at all tomorrow?"

"Probably for a little while."

"Then I'll see you then. Good night, Janine." He got out of the car.

"Night, Peter."

Peter then shut the door and watched the distinctive car drive away with a wide smile on his face. And as he turned and entered the dark and quiet firehouse, he knew that no matter how much they may fight tomorrow and in the future, they would continue to be there for one another like the great friends they were. Reciprocity, indeed.

The End (for now...)