Ghostbusters: the Next Generation

Having just gotten back from her other job, Jasmine had arrived at the office four minutes early. Only four minutes. That was late in her book. Arriving in a white tube top bra, sheer blue pantaloons and still wearing some gold jewelry, she rushed to her locker to change with what little time she had. Briefly, she did just that. Emerging from a dressing room, Jasmine was now clad in a fairly loose pink shirt with long sleeves, sporting that famous little anti-ghost sticker atop her left breast and shoulders. Below her utility belt was a tight skirt, short but not too short, but still looked professional in its own right. Her black boots had a fair hint of shine to them, and came up three inches just before her knees.

Now suited up, Jasmine discreetly, quietly crept to the office door of Doctor Peter Venkman. Just before knocking on the door, she sighed, then made a handsign with her forehead and chest; a gesture she would often make before confronting evil (or in this case, merely a little bit of stress). Cautiously poking her head into Doctor Venkman's door with an apologetic look on her face, she hesitated before speaking. "Sorry I'm late," she said, well aware she was not even actually late. In Jasmine's eyes, late was less than five minutes early. Today she had arrived just a minute short to that. She had a tendency of being hard on herself when it came to many small things like that, but would not expect others to be so. "A customer at my other job had a problem that required a bit of extra time to fix. So.. how are you today, Mister Venkman?"

Mark sighed as he walked the streets of New York he was getting desperate he was getting less and less job interviews He was potentially one of the best capable people to handle any form of equipment in the city and hear he was barely getting by becasue everyone he encountered either layed him off, denied him because of how much it would cost ot have a expert instead of a rookie. Now he had one interview he considered his last hope it was for some group called the Ghostbusters as he finally reached the building he looked up at the now rusted and old sign. "Well here goes." he said to himself as he knocked on the large door to the building.

A resounding pounding shook the door upon its frame. The brunet haired man leapt out of the bed with the redhead clutching the sheets as he tried to shove a foot down a shorts leg. He had ordered a pizza for breakfast as soon as the place downstairs opened, he was fishing for his wallet to pay the over enthusiastic delivery man when he heard a womans voice on the other side.

"Open up now Donna, I know you got someone in there!"
"Oh no, Carol, its my Wife!"
"Cool! Wait...Your what?!?"

His head whipped from woman back to door as a crack appeared in the hotel's wooden portal. That was his sign to go! He threw open the patio door and tied a corner of the sheet to the railing facing the pool and another corner was wrapped then toed around a bible before being thrown out over the railing. The book acted like an anchor to pull the sheet tight as he grabbed his clothes and dove for the bathroom as the door kicked in. The wife with blood in mind ran to the railing to catch her wife's mistress as Oscar broke out into a run holding his clothes down the hallway.

"HALT! N.Y.P.D.!"

"NO! W.A.Y.!"

He got in the elevator and made it go up a floor instead of the instinct to go down to the lobby. While in the elevator, he would get dressed while calling to cancel the pizza delivery before he exit the elevator two floors up before making his way to the housekeeping cart and stealing a bathrobe along with an empty bucket. Now armed with a disguise, he put the robe on and approached the woman cleaning a room.

"Excuse me, I just locked myself out of my room to get some ice, can you open my room please?"

She smiled kindly in understanding and swiped the key for him. He poked his head in to thankfully find it empty and locked the door. He used the phone to call back to his own room where Donna answered the phone.

"Yes?"
"Well that was fun. Wish you had told me about Carol being a COP!"
"Sorry, 'Hi, I'm cheating on my cop spouse.' isn't my usual pickup line if I want to geth somewhere!"
"There might be a reason that most people avoid cop spouses, sometimes the cops come pounding on your door. Alright, now that the cards are on the table, I gotta get to work. I'll call the pizza people and have it delivered to my work so she cant find me, but you got to get that door paid for. There's a gift card under the phone I was going to pay for the pizza with, buy some room service breakfast for you and carol. Call me friday, bye."

He sighed and called the pizzeria to have the pizza sent ahead of himself then called to have a cab ready to pick him up when he made it downstairs. Just in case he took the side door out and walked around the hotel to the cab waiting for him.

"Where too, Mack?"

"14 North Moore, between Broadway & Hudson St."

"Doctor." The office light was dim and yellow. "I didn't spend my best years on a lengthy dissertation to be called 'mister'" his voice was muffled, his face planted on the old wood of the desk, his hands rested on his head.

"Late? You should be sorry!" He lifted his head frowning, he had no idea what time it was or even what day it was, but Jasmine was such a sweet girl, he could never truly be mad at her. He frowned at her anyway, and shook his pointer finger in her direction. "Be sure you don't ever do it again." he chided in his very best 'teacher voice'.

He squinted and glanced about the room, he rifled through some paperwork trying to look as if he had been productive. And also to discretely drop the empty bottles into the filing cabinet. "Ah... I'm just fine Sweetheart." In actuality, he was hungover; pounding headache, blurred vision, and bad breath. "How was yo--"

He was interrupted by an obnoxious knock upon the door. He rubbed his temples. Was it a customer or a bill collector? "Do you mind getting the door, Sweetheart?"

As he waited he glared at the face of his watch. "Where is my offspring?"

"Understood, Doctor!" Jasmine agreed with a sincere, humble nod. "Never again, doctor." Being chided like a spoiled girl did not bother her. She usually expected to be treated as such, regardless of the circumstances. She was just glad to have this extra job, and everything else she did. Other than herself, she never knew anybody else to be content with the things they had and to never want more for themselves. Other than that which was needed, but that to her was more need than want. The money that came from her position was one reason why she was happy, but she would gladly do so even without pay if she could live without it. It was also gratifying to know there are people who actually believe in her 'gift.' Personally, her bigger gratification is to still be able to work with spirits, and to help them in other ways. For one, she knew she would have to be quick to negotiate with them. To hesitate to act for peace on their behalf meant they would be more likely to either be fried by her comrades, or captured in one of those little boxes that contained them. Something as small as such a box containing so many spirits was no surprise to her. She had seen spirits possess other objects before that were much smaller than themselves, so she knew it was not simply a matter of stuffing them into there physically, like some messy, last-minute packing job of some lazy procrastinator who forgot to pack his luggage before a plane ride.
Fortunately for Jasmine, she never thought to question what it was like for the spirits inside the little boxes. Such cruel thoughts, even derived from her own imagination, would eat away at her conscience for weeks.

And then the knocking came. "Oh, yes! Of course!" Jasmine hurried toward the main entrance door and opened it without hesitation or second thought. A single man stood there; a thin man with piercing eyes and a little goatee beard at the chin. He also had what must have been a popular hairstyle in New York, given Jasmine had seen so many young men wear it that way. Mark. "Good afternoon," she greeted with the respect as though the man there were one of her own customers. "We are the Ghostbusters. Come right in. How may we help you, sir?" Jasmine stepped aside to let the stranger inside before he could even answer, thinking nothing of it. She did it all the time in her shop, and even in her own home a couple of times.
Now that she thought about it, there was talk the other day about a new recruit. And an interview. Perhaps he was the new applicant, she mused.

Mark sighed as he stood there outside waiting hoping this wasnt a lost cause he embarked on. Until the door opened revealing a beautiful young woman who opened the door and invited him. Nodding he entered the rundown building noticing the condition it was in and the rather unique looking vehicle parked inside the main room "Thank you ms. I am here for a job interview, will you be conducting it by chance if so I have to say I consider myself honored to have such a beautiful woman perform it." Mark said for despite his situation it didnt mean he didnt have some charm.

"Ohh..." Jasmine blushed a little, not quite expecting that. She felt that the man came off rather nicely, though in her opinion she was the one being unprofessional. "..No, I am not, I'm afraid. Doctor Venkman will speak with you. Come, please. He is right this way." She led him down the hallway to his office. Before announcing the newcomer, she knocked softly. "A person to speak with you, Doctor Venkman," she piped. "He is here for the interview." She backed away so he could enter the office. Being polite with the compliment he gave, he seemed like a nice person.

And yet Jasmine did not even thank him! And blushing like that in front of him, too. Again, she scolded herself inwardly a little. He must think of her as a whore.
Oh well, she thought, putting that thought aside. It is too late for thanks or apologies now. He has a duty to complete. I should just stay out of their way.

The cab rolled up just at the same time as a pizza guy was stopping his moped. He gave the Taxi driver a ten and got out then flagged the other down with another ten. He checked the pizzas first to make sure they were the right order then paid him a stack of fives in exchange for his name to know to ask for him specifically for deliveries. It's a simple gesture that makes someone feel important enough first thing in the morning to ignore the missing tip by offering a compliment to stimulate the reward center of the psyche. He opened and closed the door quickly, faster than he intended as the red wood slammed closed with a *BANG!* that echoed through the concrete walls.

"My bad, I brought breakfast! Egg and sausage pizza with bacon on cream sauce. I got one thincrust and one deepdish.

Peter smiled wistfully as he watched Jasmine turn down the hallway. He had at first been reluctant to hire a woman on as a Ghost Buster, it was a dangerous business. Jasmine, however, was just to good to pass up. Her amazing talents aside, the way she wore that skirt was enough to make Peter satisfied with her presence.

His eyes narrowed as the new face walked into his office. He noted both the way he looked at Jasmine, and the rosy blush that now touched her face. 'So, we have a wise-guy here...' He folded his hands and straightened himself. "Have a seat, Son." The one thing he liked about being old was this; after putting up with the shit-world for so long, one earned the right to talk down to pretty much everyone else. 'It's good for them, builds character.' "So..." He scrutinized the boy from top to toe. "Tell me about yourself, and your professional experience."

He heard Oscar yelling down the hall. 'It's about time!' "Jasmine, could you please grab me a slice of deep dish pie?" He did not offer the visitor any food. He returned his attention to the young man, raising his eyebrows and awaiting his 'pitch'.

Mark entered the room and immeadilty smelt the lingering odor of booze. The man at the desk was pretty much what Mark was expecting from this interview the moment he stepped in notcing age, the bottles, he was a father, and the look in his eyes. Sighing he spoke up "Well not much to say about me other than Im on the verge of death due to barely scrapping by in this economy. for my skills im a capable expert on most of the technology here in the city. In retrospect I can fix and interact with anything from your desk lamp to a state of the art security system." Mark said before a grin came on to his face. "I think you could use my skill help get this place back up plus I heard about a few of your "Jobs" in the past I think my skills could be of great use." he said motioning to the firehouse which was in a state of disrepair since Egon and Ray left. He leaned forward in his chair. "Question is not if you will hire me is when you will hire me because its not everyday someone like me walks in your day no?" he asked with a raised brow hoping he didnt just blow his chance.