#apparently I write fic for Egon now

[inevitablemoment]

Underestimated Just Who I Was Dealing With

Word Count: 1,065

Warnings: Jealousy, unlikable POV character, brief body-shaming, internalized misogyny, pregnant character

Fandom: Ghostbusters

Pairings: Egon Spengler x Cathleen Paige Spengler

Well, now this was something completely different. I saw this clip from the show Criminal Minds. And it made me think of two things:

1. How many of Egon’s students signed up for his classes because they were interested in his epididymis?

2. How would one of these said students react in the universe where Cathleen-- Callie’s mother in my headcanon-- lived?

And if you’re curious, “Where The Cards May Fall” is the title of my Ghostbusters II If Cathleen Lived Fic. I imagine that this would be a scene deleted because they couldn’t find a place for it.

If you’re curious, I imagine Tonia to be played by Amy O’Neill... and she might turn up again if the plot bunny hits me.

Enjoy!

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Tonia Vidal sighed dreamily as Professor Spengler continued his lecture. When she had applied to Columbia and she had learned that he would be teaching there-- both parapsychology and engineering-- again, following the dissolution of the Ghostbusters.

Of course, that was how she first learned of him. As an awkward fourteen-year-old girl in Connecticut who had seen him on the local news one morning after he had apparently captured a ghost at a luxury hotel in Manhattan. Her bitch of an older sister teased her for being so smitten with the ‘Buster who always ducked out of view of the cameras, but Tonia felt that it gave him a mysterious air that was so goddamn sexy.

She found as many magazines and newspaper clippings with his face that she could, and pinned them up like her sister did with Danny and Donnie and Joey and Jon and Jordan. And she wasn’t too shy to admit that she would kiss them before bed every night.

Of course, she had to cut a certain someone out of a few of them... and used them for the cat’s litter...

Professor Spengler wasn’t what anyone would call “traditionally handsome”-- he had a hawk-like face and round glasses. And what he lacked in looks wasn’t exactly made up for in his personality. He seemed to be detached, even by professor standards. The only time that his face would ever light up was when he mentioned his wife and daughter.

Barf in my mouth, Tonia would think.

But there was just... something about him. She coined the term “subdued charisma,” because it was the best way to describe whatever it was that drew her to him.

Not to mention that voice of his...

That deep voice that she dreamed would say her name...

“You’re probably gonna want to write this down,” Professor Spengler advised. “I know that I shouldn’t tell you this, but I’m definitely putting this on the final.”

Tonia felt a warm flush in her face when she realized that his eyes had landed on her.

“I’m... only auditing this class,” she confessed, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear.

Even though he had worn the same, neutral expression throughout his lecture, Tonia thought that she could detect a hint of disappointment.

“Is anyone else auditing this class?” Professor Spengler asked.

From what Tonia could guess, eighty-five percent of the students in the class raised their hands.

What assholes, she thought to herself, even though she was the one to start the whole thing by bringing the fact that she was only auditing the class.

“Okay...” he murmured to himself. “Okay...”

And now she had upset him. Tonia made the decision that next semester, she would sign up to actually take this class.

Maybe it would make him smile.

Sure, she had collected the few pictures of him smiling, but he had always been smiling at that woman.

Professor Spengler opened his mouth as if to speak, but turned his head when he heard a knock at the door. He walked over to the door and looked out the little window. His face seemed to brighten up when he saw whoever it was, and Tonia had to suppress a groan.

She recognized that look.

Professor Spengler opened the door, ushering in a blonde woman entered carrying a platter of cookies.

His wife was a pretty little thing, though-- dressed in an autumn-appropriate blouse and jeans, and she was obviously very pregnant. Not to be rude, but Tonia wouldn’t be surprised if the woman’s water would break right there and then in the classroom.

Professor Spengler’s hand intertwined his wife’s, and he smiled. “Hi, Cath.”

“Hi, love,” she greeted with an even-brighter smile. “How’s your day so far?”

He leaned in and whispered something that couldn’t be heard by the class, something that made his wife laugh.

Though mellifluous and lilting, it grated on Tonia’s nerves like nails on a chalkboard.

Tonia stood up from her seat and loudly cleared her throat, taking Professor Spengler and his pretty, bland wife out of their moment.

“Oh, uh... this is my wife, Cathleen,” the professor introduced.

Cathleen waved to the class-- it was pretty clear that she loved the attention she was getting. She always struck Tonia as just as big of an attention whore as that Peter Venkman.

“I thought with finals coming up, and all the free time on my hands, you all could do with a homemade treat,” Cathleen addressed the class as they began to swarm around her to grab a cookie.

Even Tonia joined them, though she still scrutinized this interloper with a critical eye.

“Callie may have sampled a few before I dropped her off at school,” Cathleen said with a conspiratory tone.

“That’s fine-- looks like you made enough that there’ll be leftovers for my evening class,” Professor Spengler remarked.

The professor’s hand soon wandered over the great mound of his wife’s swollen belly.

“And how is our baby doing?” he asked with something in his voice that Tonia could only describe as... tenderness.

“She’s been kicking up a storm in there since my cab ride,” Cathleen rubbed her belly before placing her hand over his. “I think she’s hungry, and quite honestly, I’m starving.”

Professor Spengler laughed. “Now that you mention it, I’m a little hungry myself.”

“Maybe before you have to head to the lab, we could head over to lunch at that pizza place near the old firehouse?” Cathleen suggested.

“Sounds great,” Professor Spengler agreed.

Tonia bit back a scoff. Why did he act like everything that woman said was worth solid gold?

“Is it okay if I wait in your office?” she asked.

No, Tonia wanted to say. The professor’s office was for him to work and for him to meet with students who needed tutoring.

Like her.

“Of course,” he told her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

Cathleen turned around and looked at the class. “Well, it was lovely to see you all. I hope you enjoy the cookies-- good luck on finals.”

Tonia glared at Cathleen as the woman began her path towards the professor’s office. She snagged a cookie from the platter and continued her way back to her seat, taking a bite of the sweet once she sat down.

Even Tonia had to admit that Cathleen Spengler could make a damn good cookie.

[missanthropicprinciple]

For the prompts- “I haven’t been this relaxed in ages” with……… Egon?? 💖💖💖

Cheers, m'dear! <3

    It was Janine's idea. At first he was considering taking her along, but he needed to be alone for a bit, at least for what would be his first trip - one of many - into an Oklahoma forest. He felt guilty when a sad look washed over her face as he told her he was going alone. He was used to seeing that look and determined to make it up to her, but he didn't tell her this. She'd urged him to take a little trip somewhere, to get away from his careful management of an impending apocalypse. "You've set it up as best you can, Egon," he heard her say in her distinct Brooklyn accent, her voice a bit faded and tired from the years. He felt he could never do enough; going away, even for a short weekend trip into the woods felt wrong somehow. He was the self-proclaimed guardian of what was basically a hell-mouth. He didn't want to leave his post after so many years of guardianship, of sacrifice. A moment's enjoyment felt so wrong. But she convinced him to go "looking for mushrooms." He smiled at that. A faint smile. A twinkle in his tired eyes. Janine patted his arm and left. The next day he packed up the truck and headed into the forest.

    When he arrived at the campsite he took out his modest, tattered green canvas backpack and hoisted it onto his broad shoulders. In a flash he caught sight of himself in a wing mirror. He stooped down a bit to look at his face. Dirt Farmer. What an epithet. He just took it. He ceased to be Egon Spengler in Summerville. He was just Dirt Farmer. Quiet, eccentric, even brave, and eventually rather famous Ghostbuster, Egon was an identity lost to him. He scrubbed his hands over his face, a grey beard, almost white covering his once thin, clean-shaven chin. But some things were the same. He was still tall and so was his hair. And a pair of black-rimmed glasses still were very much a part of his face.

    He sighed, trying to remember the last time he'd been on a mushroom walk, let alone a weekend hunt. Fond memories of his college days, long before the chaos of people and ghosts, came flooding back to him. Inhaling the fresh, woodland air he got his bearings and began looking more intensely for signs of fungi. He vowed that if he found some morels he'd cook them for dinner for Janine when he got back. He didn't find anything rare, but collected some samples of auricularia auricula-judae (a sort of translucent brown and almost curly-looking), a large hunk of laetiporus sulfureus, a single coprinus comatus which he carefully placed in a jar, and a glorious hericium erinaceus, very fresh and shaggy.

    He slept on an old mattress on the back of the truck, which wasn't the best resting position for a man of his years, but he was lulled to sleep by the forest sounds, mysterious and haunting. He rose at dawn each day, a bit stiff in the joints but still eager to hunt for more. On the last day he found some lovely morels. He eased himself to the ground and sat there, observing the intricate, wrinkly curves of the cap.

    Janine. Loyal. She always deserved better, he thought. A friend. Perhaps his only one left. The boys, his fellow Ghostbusters. He'd left them. Another sacrifice. He would never stop loving them. He hoped in his heart that they had not forgotten him completely. But he still had Janine. A dinner of sautéed morels would be a good gesture, he thought. In the morning he packed up his findings, careful to keep the slime mold samples (stemonitis splendens and all) away from the edible mushrooms. Before he knew it he was pulling up to the farm, a shell of a home. He shook his head, pushing the sad thoughts away and headed to the phone.

"Janine?"

(The End for now.)