The Scientific Method (Egon/Reader)

6. TESTING (Part One)

You stared at the pink tinged shaving cream still glistening on your fingers. 

You rubbed the cream around, allowing it to dissolve into your skin. You knew you should have washed it off. Dr. Spengler would be very cross if he found out. 

But you began think to yourself if that was really such a bad thing? 

A tingle of anticipation was beginning to spread through your body.

You glanced around the room. He had left you with an impossible list of expectations to meet in so few hours. The dictation alone would take half the afternoon!

"Jerk," you muttered under your breath, feeling a surge of rebellion blooming.

The first hour was spent calibrating the lab equipment. You were thorough (passive-aggressively thorough in fact) and left your written results neatly stacked by his computer...before doubling back a second later and tipping the pile across his keyboard. He never said they had to be neat, just complete.

Smirking, you turned your attention to the scattered papers on the floor. He had never once left papers in such a state. How these wound up on the floor in such disarray was a mystery to you, but you got down on the ground and began to sort through them. 

You didn't even notice the drop of slime on the ground as your knee slid right through it.

Peter walked in an hour later carrying the cot you had asked him to bring up. He chucked it down unceremoniously then stopped dead at the sight of you.

You were working in your camisole, having shed your sweater as you'd worked up quite the sweat. Your hair was bunched up in a messy ponytail, tendrils sticking out in chaotic disarray. 

You were laying on your stomach, stretching your arms under a cabinet to retrieve a page, grumbling frustratedly.

He then took in the pile of slime covered equipment in the sink, the scattered papers...

Looking down, he saw the tiny splotches of pink slime leading in a trail to the back rooms.

Wordlessly he followed the path to the bathroom where he saw the discarded and still damp clothes Egon had left in a pile on the floor the night before, the shower curtain half off its hooks. There was a large handprint of slime on the shower wall.

Peter came back into the lab and knelt down beside you as you shuffled through your stack of papers, breathing heavily.

"Damn it...where is it?" you muttered, bending down to look under a different filing cabinet.

He stretched his body all the way out on the floor, propping himself up on his elbow.

"Hey, kitten?"

"Mmm hmm?" you muttered distractedly.

"Whatcha doin' down here?"

"What does it look like, Peter? Dr. Spengler practically ordered me to get these papers sorted out by the time he gets back from whatever it is he's doing that's so important! I've got over a hundred left to organize, scan, and file, then I've got three copies of dictation to type before seven! So if you don't mind..." You let out an exasperated huff and clamber back under the filing cabinet.

The pieces were coming together in Venkman's mind. He may not be the brains of the technical side of the operation, but he was the resident genius when it came to human interactions. It was literally his field of expertise...business and personal.

"Well, what'll happen if you're not done when Egon gets back, if I may inquire?"

You finally look up from the papers into the relaxed, somewhat bemused face of Venkman.