Disclaimer: Not mine. Ghostbusters belongs to.. uh? Dunno. Stargate belongs elsewhere.

Spoilers: Season 8 for SG-1, the first movie for Ghostbusters.

Set: Alternate ending to the episode 'Lockdown'. Sometime during the dry period in Ghostbusters.

Notes: This was... written in a combination of factors. I've recently been reading the Ghostbusters comic (which is damned good, btw), and, well.. Instant idea.

Rating: PG13. Bad language, vague innuendo.

Walking Cliche

by Ana Lyssie Cotton


Janine Melnitz was not a happy woman.

Makeup hadn't worked. Slinking hadn't worked. Learning obscure Etruscan myths hadn't worked.

She was beginning to sense that she could strip naked and cover herself in marmalade, and it still wouldn't work. Not that she was that hopeless.

"This is General George Hammond. I need to speak to Egon Spengler, please."

Great. Someone else wanted him.

It was almost enough to hang up on the caller, but it could mean business, which meant her salary would be paid this week. And she wouldn't have to suffer Venkman's moronic jokes at her expense.

Besides. It would mean actually having Egon notice her.

This could so be worth it.

"Just a moment, please."


"So, did this guy say what he wanted, Egon?" Raymond Stanz was not a suspicious man by nature. Well, not a completely suspicious man by nature. You didn't capture ghosts for a living and work on psychic phenomena without gaining at least a healthy paranoia.

Sometimes, they were all out to get you.

And this was the government, or the military, or something. And Egon hadn't been too clear. So, maybe Ray was a little worried.

Either that, or he was bored.

"Nope." Egon went back to fiddling with the half-broken PDA someone had given them as payment (small tenement building, most of the kids there could barely afford food... It had seemed a good deal at the time). He thought he could make it work.

Ray had bet Winston five bucks that he couldn't. He was hoping to be able to afford a pack of cigarettes again soon.

"Oh. So, we're just going to go to this Colorado Springs, taking our equipment for, what, fun and games in a sprinkler system?" Dr. Peter Venkman demanded. Sometimes Ray thought that Peter never fully thought about what he was going to say before he mouthed off. Other times, he was sure there was a definite purpose to it. Venkman looked at the others waiting on the tarmac with him. "Does this strike any of you as a little--"

"Gentlemen." The man addressing them was slim and of medium height with nicely cut hair and a starched uniform that would look just as good on a mannequin. "I'm Major Paul Davis. If you'll all follow me, your plane is ready. You'll be briefed on the way to your destination."

"Before we go, I just wanna know one thing."

"Dr. Venkman," the man said, his tone dry, "Everything will be explained to you."



Major General George Hammond was hoping he had done the correct thing. His people were under threat (only they weren't really his people anymore, but seven years of watching out for them and ordering their lives still left him feeling they were), and he had to take steps to help the situation.

After all, the President wasn't going to allow StarGate Command to remain in lockdown indefinitely. In fact, he'd mentioned to George not less than four hours before that if nothing happened by the next morning, he was going to call and give them 24 hours.

So, really, calling in these supposed 'ghostbusters' was the right thing to do.

He just hoped it didn't breach national security, threaten the lives of his people, or result in anything worse. The end of the world, for instance, would be bad.


"Good to see even the military can't solve anything." Winston Zeddemore muttered to himself as they walked in the front door of a supposedly secure facility. Major Davis had been rather sketchy on the details, citing national security and a few other things. What had been clear was that there was a class A ghost floating around the place causing havoc and occasionally possessing people.

"Your mission, should you choose to accept it," Venkman was in full spate. "Is to go inside this--"

"Shut up, Venkman."

"Ah, Ray, you know--"

"I'm getting a PKE reading about twenty meters to the east of us. And six levels down." interrupted Egon. He glanced at them, "Everyone ready?"

"Sure, Egon. I've got a neutron accelerator strapped to my back, and we're gonna blow up a mountain."

"Probably not a good plan," interjected a smooth voice.

They all looked towards the originator and found a tall blonde woman in olive drab pants and a long-sleeved black shirt. There was a gun in her hand, not quite pointing at them.

Venkman was the first to break the silence, "Hey. So. What's a girl like you doin' in a place like this."

"Dr. Spengler?" She asked, ignoring Venkman with only the slightest of irritated glances.

Egon stepped forward. "Yo."

"I'm Lieutenant Colonel Sam Carter." She lowered the pistol and nodded to them. "If you'll follow me, we can get to the ghost."

"Lieutenant Colonel. Yow. Sexy."

Winston rolled his eyes. Ray smacked Peter. "Keep your libido in check, or she might shoot you."

"Yeah," Carter said, her face straight. "But I'd only wound him."


"So. Deep space radar telemetry. I never knew it could be so hot."

Rolling her eyes and stifling the urge (for the thirtieth time) to shoot Venkman in the leg (or mouth), Sam Carter slid around another corner and checked the area. "We're clear."

They'd been tracking the ghost of Anubis for the last hour as it flittered here and there. Twice, they'd gotten close enough and then it had drifted off and they'd had t go up or down. It hadn't breached anything really special yet (no impromptu tour of the gateroom, for instance), but Sam had a feeling it was only a matter of time.

Dr. Spengler stepped up to her, "The PKE indicates the ghost is about another four meters and around the next corner."

"Good." She glanced at him. "Let me guess. You'll take it from here."

He nodded, "I'd hate to worry about civilians caught in the crossfire."

A slight smile tugged at her lips, but she fought it down. "You are the experts." But, oh, she SO wanted to watch and record and find out how the hell they were doing what they did (if they did what they said they did, and she still wasn't convinced about that). That PKE meter, for instance, made her fingers ITCH. She wanted to take it apart and see how it worked.

But now was definitely not the time.

Maybe she could convince Col--General O'Neill to brief them fully, or something.

Nah. He'd never go for that.

"Hey! Bogey at ten o'clock!" One of the other men--Ray Stanz, she remembered--called. He moved forwards, weapon held loosely in his hands.

Zeddemore and Venkman flanked him while Sam dropped back and Spengler moved to one side, fumbling a strange box-like object from his belt. "On three, people."




A black gooey shape formed in the corridor. It reminded Carter of bad horror movies and silly special effects. But it also reminded her that this thing had taken over one of her best friends, and had so screwed over another man's body chemistry that he would die soon.

Moving like a team, the four men waited until the last possible moment, then opened fire, energy slicing out into the corridor. Within seconds they'd trapped the ghost-like thing in the matrix of lightning. It writhed and pulsed, attempting to free itself.

"Now, Egon!"

The box slid across the floor, and then Spengler yelled, "Don't look!"

Don't look?! Was the man insane? But Carter was reminded that they WERE scientists, even if fringe ones. And closed her eyes. A second later, she was glad she had as a huge light filled the air around them all.

A strange sucking, slurping sound echoed, and then there was a snap. And the light shut off abruptly.


Sam blinked away some of the spots and looked at the four men. Spengler was poking the box with a foot. He looked up and nodded, "That non-corporeal cloud is now toast."

There was a round of back-slapping and congratulations from the four men, then Spengler looked at Carter. "About our fee..."

"Yeah. Major Davis will be covering that. But on the surface." She gestured at the box. "What is that?"

"It's a trap."

"And, it does... what?"

He picked it up and walked next to her as she headed to the nearest elevator that would take them back to the surface. "The energy vortex works on two plains, and creates a binding cell where the proto-plasm is held in a kind of stasis."

"So... it's not dead, then."

"Well, technically," Stanz said, "It's already dead. Now it's just contained."

Sam tilted her head, then nodded. "Cool." She swiped her card at the elevator, then looked at the four men. They seemed completely at ease again. "This..." she gestured at the equipment. "It's fascinating. How does it work?"

They all entered the elevator and jostled a bit for space while Sam held the door. Then she punched the button for the surface level and looked over at Spengler. Venkman had ended up next to her. She briefly considered shooting him.

"Dr. Spengler?" She prompted when he seemed to have forgotten, his gaze inspecting the small PDA he'd been playing with off and on for the last hour.

"Hey!" Venkman interrupted before any explanations could be started. "No technical talking until we've been paid and I have a nice juicy steak in front of me."

The elevator doors opened, and Sam stepped out into the upper level. "There's a decent steakhouse in town."

"Oh? So, Sam--"



General Jack O'Neill glanced at their temporary guests, then looked at her. "So, it's all done?"


Spengler held up the trap. "One boxed ghost to go."


Correctly interpreting his look, she gestured, "Dr. Spengler, Dr. Stanz, Dr. Venkman, Mr. Zeddemore, I'd like you to meet my commanding officer, Brigadier-General Jack O'Neill."


There was an exchange of nods. Then the General looked at her again. "Sir?"

He shrugged and stuck his hands in his pockets.

"We should, uh, get back to New York." Spengler said, interrupting the slightly uncomfortable moment.

"Yeah. And get paid." Ray held out a hand. "Nice to meet you, Colonel Carter."

She shook his hand, "Likewise. And... I may e-mail you. These devices of yours are fascinating."

"Sure thing, ma'am."

Venkman smirked at her, "Any time you're in New York, Colonel, look me up. I know fabulous things to do and wines that will make your heart sing."

"Ignore him," Ray advised.

"Planning to."

"Gentleman." Major Davis was there, carefully guiding them away from the top secret facility they'd just been inside. "If you'll follow me, we have your flight back."

"And our paycheck, right?"


They disappeared down the hallway.

Carter looked at O'Neill. He looked back, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet.



"Anubis is dead."

"Yeah, again."

"Yeah. And, y'see, I don't get that, but..."

Silence again, then she half-grinned, "So, jell-O?"

"We'll have to leave the base for some. There was a run on it and the mess store's all out."

"Oh, well... Can we do that?"

"Lockdown's over, Carter."

She considered, then nodded, "Just let me do a few things, sir."



This had to work, Janine decided. If it didn't, she was turning in her resignation and leaving.

Because, damnit, there was only so much sexual tension a woman could take before, well, exploding came to mind. And not the happy kind of explosion that left you all sweaty and satisfied.

She shifted on the desk, wondering if she should have cleared it off, first.

Nah, she decided, somewhat spitefully. The marmalade would do his stupid doohickeys wonders.

The sound of the boys returning from their jaunt reached her ears. And she smirked. Time to find out if Egon Spengler was a man or a mouse.


Final notes: Because I'm sure at least one person was rolling their eyes about Venkman's flirting -- watch the movie, read the comic, if it has tits, he flirts with it. That could have been Daniel with a boob job and he would have flirted.