Part 2, here it is!

Didn't do a disclaimer last time, so I figured I'd fix that. Here goes: I, Redcatie7 do not own any of the following characters except for Jennifer, Alex, and Mrs. Colby. (And Mrs. Shapiro, but nobody gives a crap about her.)


I sighed as I stepped into the cab. Rehearsal had run late that day. Whoopee. It was so late, I wouldn't even have time to visit Ray at the bookstore.

A lot had changed in the past five years; namely, me.

If there's somethin' strange in ya neighborhood, who ya gonna call?

I gritted my teeth. That song had made me happy in the good old days, but now it just made me sad. And angry at those goons who had decided to sue us for saving the city.

Watch it, Jennifer. You've been listening to Ray too much.

"Could you turn that off please?" I asked the cabbie.


As I walked into my apartment, everything went pitch black. "What the hell?" I muttered to myself. "Oh great!"

I stomped over to the phone blindly. I was worried about my boys. I picked up the receiver and listened. No dial tone. "Fabulous," I grumbled.

I heard a tentative knock on my door. I opened it to see that it was Mrs. Shapiro, my neighbor, a little old lady with knobby knees and an overly sweet smile. "Oh, hi, Mrs. S. Can I help you?"

"Oh good, you're here. I wouldn't want to be out on the street tonight!" She smiled. "I was just worried about you, dear. Are you alright?"

I smiled back, touched that the old bird cared. "I'm okay. I think I'm just going to turn in early; it's been kind of a long day."

Mrs. Shapiro nodded, as if she understood. "Alright. Good night."

I did go to bed after my neighbor left. I just didn't sleep. Instead, I just tossed and turned, worrying about my friends. How were they faring in this blackout?

I laughed to myself. Egon, I thought, was probably taking valences at the power plant right about now. Or he was going out of his mind because he couldn't read his PKE meter in the dark. He tended to think everything was related to the paranormal.

Egon was now studying human feelings or something. Ray, as I mentioned before, owned a bookstore, specializing in occult literature.

"What else?" I had joked when Ray had opened the store.

Peter now hosted his own talk show for psychics. I really only watched it because nobody else did. He and Dana broke up and Dana married some violinist, whom she recently divorced. They even had a kid too, a little boy named Oscar. And Winston had a steady job as a general contractor. I was happy for him because I knew he was working in a field that he loved, just like me.

After the breakup of Ghostbusters, I had switched my minor from parapsychology to music, thanks to a recommendation from Dana Barrett. Ray and Egon had been a little disappointed, but they had understood.

Studying parapsychology had been too painful for me after we got shut down. Plus, it just wasn't any fun studying under someone who wasn't Peter, Ray or Egon.

I turned my thoughts to Alex. He was probably still at the museum, burning the midnight oil. Ever since he was promoted to head curator of the Metropolitan, he didn't have much time left over me.

Whatever. I was busy too these days with choir rehearsals and all my classes. Thank God I'm graduating soon.

As much as I wanted to be a professional musician, I knew that it wasn't likely to happen. So I decided to go with my original game plan: be a psychologist. They make good money, and the work's pretty easy; all you have to do is pretend to listen to some nut rant about their life.

Jesus, listen to me. I think I've been spending too much time with Venkman, which is something I try to avoid. Just kidding. Peter and I, despite our rocky start, were good friends now. We all were.

I could always count on Peter to cheer me up when I was blue. Winston understood me so well, it was scary. Egon listened to my problems and comforted me; even though I knew being in the presence of a female made him squirm. And Ray…well, he was my brother, plain and simple.

Truthfully, all these attributes could describe any of them. But when I thought of my friends' best qualities, those were what spoke loudest about them. Together, we had formed a dynamic team. But unfortunately, our outstanding friendship hadn't been enough to hold Ghostbusters together.

I groaned. I needed to get some shut eye and stop letting my thoughts depress me.


I woke up to the sound of the telephone ringing the next morning. I stumbled out of bed and grabbed the phone. "Hello?" I asked groggily, my sleep-worn brain barely registering the fact that the power was back on.

"Jennifer? It's Winston," the guy on the other end said.

I stifled a yawn. "Oh, hey. Did the power go off at your place too?"

"Actually, it was out on the whole island, but listen. The guys got arrested!"

That woke me up. "What?"

"I don't have to time to explain," said Winston. "Just meet us down at the courthouse in an hour."

I looked at the clock. 6:58. "This hour's not fit for man nor beast," I muttered. "Alright, Zedd. I'll be there."