The Scientific Method (Egon/Reader)

5. RESEARCH (Egon POV)

As he ran down the stairwell, Egon's mind was racing. 

"What have I gotten myself into?"

He reached the first floor and nearly trampled Venkman who was coming around the corner.

"Woahhh there, Egon! Where's the fire?"

"Excuse me." he said, brushing past Peter and making his way to the back. Peter followed.

"We haven't seen you for days and the minute she gets back you're off to the races. What's going on between you two? She was giving off some interesting vibes earlier when I met her outside."

"Venkman, there is nothing "going on". I let her take yesterday off. She's here now to watch the lab so I can finally take care of some things out of the office. That's it." He grabbed his bag from a hook near the door.

Peter eyed Egon up and down, taking in his tensed body, flushed neck, and dilated pupils. To the untrained mind, Egon's state could be chalked up to stress and exhaustion. But Peter Venkman's mind was not only highly trained but highly attuned to what he referred to as "the human condition". It was his field of expertise, so to speak.

"That's it, huh? Ooookay, well you go on and run your "errands". Hey, did she make that coffee like I told her to?"

Egon stopped short and turned on the spot. 

Peter observed, a small smirk playing on his lips, as Egon slowly stalked towards him until they were nearly chest to chest. 

"Let's get one thing very clear here, Peter. You do not, under any circumstances, order her around. She is astute, perceptive, has an inquisitive mind and an excellent work ethic. I expect you to treat her with respect. Do I make myself clear?"

Very, VERY interesting indeed, thought Peter.

"Crystal, sir." he gave Egon a mock salute. 

"Go get your own coffee, Peter." 

Venkman watched with amusement as Egon slammed the backdoor behind him.

"Good for you, Spengler." he murmured, and began to whistle a jaunty tune as he headed upstairs.

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Egon jumped on the crowded subway train. There were no open seats so he grabbed onto a pole and shut his eyes, desperately trying to clear his mind. But it was no use. 

He ruminated on the evening she came back to the lab. He remembered everything about her that night. The way she looked standing in the doorway, the way she reacted to his questions, the sound of her voice when he offered to give her what she desired, even if it was in the name of science.

It really had started out that way. Scientific curiosity. 

He had sent her home to rest and immediately delved back into analyzing the sample she had left behind.

He had run all the standard tests that he and Ray had developed for the slime. Nothing out of the ordinary. But Egon began to notice that the longer he was in close proximity to this particular sample, the more he felt the need to touch it.

He inhaled sharply at the memory.

 It had been almost an unconscious act. He'd just finished making a new slide to observe in the microscope, and a small trail of the dark pink slime was dripping down the sides of the beaker. He had simply watched as his fingers slowly reached out unbidden and gently slide through the liquid as it dripped down the glass. His middle and index fingers began to tingle and grew pleasantly warm, like he had tested the waters of a comfortable bath. 

His eyes went glassy as he brought the fingers closer to his face, rubbing the silky liquid around and around in circles. He leaned in slightly and breathed in. 

A deep, guttural groan escaped his throat. The scent was unlike anything he had experienced before. Neutral slime had proven odorless. Negatively charged slime was musky and dank. Positively charged slime smelled fresh, like clean laundry on a sunny day. But this...this sexually charged specimen was indescribably erotic.

A citrusy, peppery aroma like fresh gingerbread...warm, spicy, enticing, comforting. But underneath that, something more primal. A sweet perspiration, salty, musky, yet tinged with a sugariness like vanilla.

 He wanted to taste it. 

He had to taste it. 

Filled with sudden unbridled want, Egon placed the glistening fingers into his mouth. 

His body felt as though it might spontaneously combust. It was as though every single nerve ending had been dialed to ten.  He practically felt his frontal-subcortical circuits blow a fuse in his brain. Every primitive dominant instinct had awakened.

His fists slammed down on the countertop and he shot up from his chair. He began to pace the floor in frantic circles, breathing heavily, his hands desperate to ...to...well he knew what they needed. They needed HER. The thoughts were ravaging his mind. His thoughts, HER thoughts. Everything she dreamed, everything she yearned for infused into his mind and body. He could see her very dreams. 

*the sight of her flushed cheeks* (reach out and take her by the back of her hair, make her look you in the eyes)

*the sound of her breathing heavily* (pull her towards you)

*the look in her eyes as she stares at you with such trust and need and vulnerability* (just give in, Egon Spengler...you're done for)

As last shred of his self-control began to slip away, Egon knew he had to regain it quickly or he'd run to her apartment that very night. Stumbling into the bathroom, he turned the shower on full blast and stepped into the frigid water, fully clothed. 

He stood there, biting his fist to keep back his scream of want, fighting the impulses flooding his system. 

He began to shudder, lips blue, and finally turned off the shower, clothes now clinging to his shaking body.

He got out, peeled off the freezing clothing, and grabbed a towel that Venkman had left on the floor. The shuddering began to subside at last as he wrapped the towel around his waist.

 He changed into dry clothes and realized that every surface of his body now ached, as though he'd just gone ten rounds in a prize fight. 

Head pounding,  he headed to the kitchen and started a pot of coffee before grabbing three ibuprofen, swallowing them dry. 

Donning two pairs of latex gloves, he put all of the equipment that had touched the slime into the kitchen sink. He'd deal with those later. Right now he needed to find a way to come down off of the pheromone bomb he'd just been dealt. 

The shower had helped his physical symptoms abate, but his mind was still buzzing. 

If he didn't distract himself soon he wasn't sure what he might end up doing, and he wasn't ready to find out. 

Not yet, anyway.

First, he needed to test his theory.

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