This was a challenge fic I proposed at chat to help jump start LillyRose's dead muses. Mena dared me to write it myself, so I did. Lemmie know what
you think.
This is for you, Mena! Don't say I didn't warn you.
Egon/Bermuda/Hockey stick challenge! 

This morning I traveled downstairs to ask Janine a question. Tonight I wanted to take her to see a musical. She'd been hinting at seeing, "The Lion King" on Broadway for some time now, and I suspect she would be more than happy to go with me. Little did I realize that my day would turn out to be a nightmare.

I walked to her desk, but she wasn't there. I assumed she was in the restroom, powdering her nose, or whatever women happen to do in there. I leaned against the desk to wait for her return. I didn't have long to wait.

*Clump* *Clump* *Clump*

Odd, that didn't sound like Janine's dainty footsteps. I turned, and total shock overcame me. Janine had been replaced with what I believed was, the strangest doppelganger I could ever imagine. Correction: I could never conceive something as outrageous as this.

The first thing I noticed were these immense shoes; the kind you would find in an army surplus store. Steel toed, and with a tread that a tank would envy. They were laced all the way to the bottom of her calves, and were the most nauseating olive drab color. Working my way up, she had on a green and red plaid skirt, with a Scottish tartan pattern. The black leather bustier didn't do much for the outfit, as it seemed two sizes too small.

Her hair was cut in a different style than before, and it made me wish otherwise. She had plastered the right half down over one half of her face with stiffening gel, and the other side was shaved down to mere stubble. The black streaks marring her natural red hair only served to accentuate the dark, Gothic makeup she was wearing. The black nail polish completed the look.

I took a step back, genuinely afraid that this was a demon of some sort. I wish I had my PKE meter with me at this moment, but it was upstairs, in the lab. The horror before my eyes advanced on me, and I stepped back again, matching it step for step. I finally ran out of room when I backed into the front of Ecto-1. She (if one could call it that), pressed herself against me, her face only inches from my own.

"Waddya want, Egon?" Lord, her Brooklyn accent was thicker than ever, and her breath smelled of poison covered with honey. My mouth tried to work, but no sound came out. When she reached out to stroke my chest, my voice returned. "N-Nothing," I managed to stammer out.

This only prompted her to be more attentive to me. As she reached up to caress my face, I broke away, heading for the stairs. Only too late did I realize my mistake in not going to the lockers. The proton packs were in there, and now she was in between me and the lockers, effectively cutting me off. My only chance was locking myself in the lab, and try to find another solution to my problem.

I took the stairs two at a time, my long legs quickly outdistancing her. "Egon, what's wrong?" she called after me, "Don'cha like me, anymore?" I didn't waste my breath with an answer. I was on the third floor by the time she got halfway up the stairs, and I bolted for the safety of my lab. Locking the door, I rested my head against the doorframe. I was safe at the moment.

"Pretty dumb move, if ya ask me, Egon." I whipped around at the voice coming from right behind me. I should have anticipated this. But I didn't, and that was my fatal mistake. She grasped my chin in her hand. "Why don't we go somewhere more romantic?" Smoke came from nowhere, and enveloped the two of us in a murky haze. When it cleared, we were standing on a tropical beach.

"Where are we?" I managed to say. She turned on those darkened eyes upon me.

"Bermuda," she said. "It's nice this time of year." She clasped her hands around mine. "Now, where were we?"

It was now or never. Right now, I would rather face Gozer and a whole pack of Terror Dogs than this apparition. I broke free with an effort, and ran down the beach as fast as I could. When I ran out of beach, I ran into the city, dodging cars and evading pedestrians in my haste to get away.

I had to find a place to hide, a place which she would never foresee me to go. My luck held out. I ran into a nearby sports arena, where the local hockey team was practicing on the ice. So as not to put the innocents in danger, I headed into the locker room.

As I paused to catch my breath, I espied a rack of sports equipment nearby. I chose a hockey stick to defend myself with, in case she found me.

*Clump* *Clump* *Clump*

I flattened myself against the lockers, breathing heavily. I lifted the stick, ready to beat her off, if necessary. I shouldn't have bothered. As I was looking left, she came from my right. The hockey stick was ripped from my hands with an inhuman strength, as though I were a child. The blade was pressed against my throat, pinning me to the locker as if I were a butterfly on display. I gasped for air as I grasped the stick, and attempted to prevent it from crushing my windpipe.

She leered at me. "Comon', Lover-Boy, let's see if we can remake you in our own image." Her face came closer. "Pucker up, and give Mama some sugar, baby."

Spots were dancing in front of my eyes from the lack of air, and I couldn't resist her if I tried. Her lips closed over mine, and I was undone. Fire and ice coursed through me at the same time, as I felt myself begin to change.

My curled forelock unwound itself, and hung limply down over my face, beginning to take on a purple tint. I felt a heavy weight pull at my left earlobe, no doubt an earring of some kind. My jumpsuit transformed into biker leathers, complete with chaps, and a vest covering my bare chest. Fire burned across my arm, and in its wake, the words, "Zone Dweebie" was tattooed there.

Last, but not least, a spiked dog collar encircled my neck, completing my new look. I no longer looked upon the woman with revulsion; indeed, she was the most attractive thing I had ever seen. She must have seen the desire burning in my eyes, for she threw away the hockey stick, and embraced me. I held her close, and tilted her head upwards to kiss her.

"What's going on, here?"

We both turned to see who was intruding on our privacy. It was a thin, plain woman; with red hair and matching red lipstick. She seemed familiar, somehow; but from another time, another place, another life.

"Egon? Is that you?" As she approached, she narrowed her eyes at my companion. "And just *who* is *she*?" the woman spat. Both women's eyes shot daggers at one another. I fumbled to say something. "Janine?" was the only thing to come to mind.

"What are you doing to my Egon, you cheap floozy!"

"He's mine now, sister, and if you know what's good for ya, you'd scram and leave us alone!" She leaned forward to kiss me again, but was savagely spun around, and slammed into a row of lockers.

"Touch him again, and I'll kick your patoot all over this locker room!" Janine snarled.

"You and what army, Red?"

Janine bent, and picked up the fallen hockey stick. "The Melnitz Army, geekwad!"

I stood, agog, as the newcomer proceeded to carry out her threat against my would-be girlfriend. I have never seen a woman, much less a man, fight with such passion before. The battle was bloody, but thankfully short-lived, with the loser screaming her frustration, and disappearing in a puff of smoke.

With the demoness gone, my original form returned. I couldn't help but smile as my hair recurled, and resumed its natural pale blond state. Purple was never my color, anyway. Janine looked me up and down appraisingly. "Ya know, I'm almost sorry to see that go. You looked kind of sexy dressed up like that."

I could feel the heat color my cheeks. I decided to change the subject. "What are you doing here, Janine? This is the last place I expected you to be."

She tossed the broken hockey stick aside. "Winston and I came here on vacation together. We were on the beach, when Winston spotted you running for your life. We followed you here, and I found you." She shrugged. The gesture was endearing to me at that moment. I stepped forward and embraced her. "Janine, how can I ever thank you?"

"Can you keep the tattoo?"

"I'll think about it."

The End 

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