Title: Frame-Up 1/12

Author: Susan Owens Beta read and suggestions by: LN

Rated : PG13

Disclaimers: I do not own The Real Ghostbusters. DIC does. The
Ghostbusters were created by Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis.

Author notes: I am doing Stantzman’s challenge. This is actually my
first RGB fan fiction . The Rebirth of Ray just got done first.

Archive: Yes, please

Copyright 2003 Susan Owens











The opening of the new restaurant was in full swing, as elegantly clad
dinner guests pulled up in even more elegant cars outside. The
proprietor, Mr. Thomas Spenser, welcomed his guests with the practiced
graciousness of a professional restauranteur.





"Welcome to The House of Roses. I hope you have a wonderful time this
evening." Spenser was in full Maitre d’ mode, shaking hands with
everyone. The place was crowded; opening night was going to be a hit. Suddenly
he noticed a strange man walk in. He carried himself with an air of
self-confidence, thumbs looped in his work belt, appraising the restaurant
with a keen eye. He wore a tan jumpsuit, unzipped practically to his
belt-buckle, and a pair of scuffed army boots. His auburn hair was a
mess, and perched on top, as if to flatten it, the strangest pair of
goggles Spenser had ever seen. On his back seemed to be a backpack of some
kind. Mr. Spenser stared at the man. His guests also stared. Some were
muttering.





"Look after the guests," Spenser whispered to a waiter who was standing
close by. "I'll deal with this." He quickly intercepted the man at the
door.





"Sir, we have a dress code here. You can't just walk in here dressed .
. . " he gestured with disdain at what the man was wearing. "...like
that." There was a distinct air of distaste in his voice and on his face.





The man smiled at Mr. Spenser and held out his hand. "Ghostbusters. Ray
Stantz at your service." Suddenly alarmed, Spenser pulled Ray aside. "I
didn't call for you guys."





The owner watched with growing alarm as Ray nonchalantly took out a PKE
meter and conducted a sweep of the restaurant. As quickly as he took it
out, he replaced it. "Well Mr. Spenser, looks like you’re wrong. You’ve
got a ghost here, and by the looks of my reading, a real nasty one.
Don't worry. I’ll take care of it."





Before Mr. Spenser could say any more, Ray unsheathed his thrower from
his pack and fired into the crowd. People screamed as tables and chairs
were blasted to pieces. Pandemonium broke out as people panicked trying
to get out. Mr. Spenser was now yelling above the noise. "GET OUT! LOOK
AT WHAT YOU DID!"





Ray lowered his weapon and smiled innocently at Mr. Spenser. "I scared
away your problem, Mr. Spenser. That’ll be $5000."





"$5000? I won't pay it. I didn't hire you."





Ray’s innocent smile turned malicious. "You know this baby can do more
than catch ghosts. It would really be a bad thing to see your place go
up in smoke."





Mr. Spenser turned white and backed away. "You're out of your mind."





"No, I just want to be paid for a job well done."





"I'm calling the police."





"You do that," Ray leered as he walked out. As he reached the door, he
abruptly turned and fired again into the restaurant, leaving the back
wall a pile of rubble. "Have a nice day."





Shaking, Mr. Spenser called the police.





********

It had been quiet all day at the firehouse. Peter Venkman and Winston
Zeddemore were sitting at Peter's desk playing poker. Peter’s feet were
perched up on the desk. Egon Spengler was upstairs in his lab working
on a new invention, and Janine Melnitz sat at her desk, filing her nails
and popping her chewing gum.





Suddenly, the front door was thrown open, and police detective Walter
Frump stormed in.





"Venkman!" He barked. "Where's Stantz?"





Peter looked up casually from his card game, and adopted a
carefully-rehearsed neutral _expression. "Well hello to you too, detective," he
drawled.





The detective's scowl deepened. "I 'm not in the mood, Venkman." he
spat. "Where is Stantz?"





With concern on his face Winston got up and walked over to Frump.
"Ray’s not here at the moment. Anything we can do?"





Frump stared sharply at them. "Look, if you are trying to protect him
forget it. I'm taking him down for questioning."





Egon was coming down the stairs and heard Frump's words. "Taking who
down for questioning?" he inquired mildly.





Peter came over to him. "It seems as if Ray is in some sort of
trouble."





Egon looked at Frump. "What happened?"





"He wrecked the opening of the new restaurant The House of Roses. He
came in claiming there was a ghost and opened fire. He trashed the
place." Frump snarled. The proprietor figures he did over $10,000 worth of
damage. He’s got a list of charges against him as long as my arm.





Peter scowled as he faced Frump. "You're out of your mind! Ray would
never do anything like that!"





Frump smiled with relish at Peter’s anger. He’d been waiting for a
chance to see Venkman try and sqirm out of a sticky situation like this
one, but now Frump had him over a barrel. "We have eye witnesses and it
was recorded on the restaurant’s surveillance camera. That was the only
thing he didn't destroy. Now, where is he?"





"We honestly don't know," replied Winston, trying to defuse the tension
between the two men. "He went out for a walk. Said he needed to clear
his head."





******





Ray rounded the corner of Varick street, returning from his walk, to
see a proton pack lying in front of the firehouse door. Frowning, he
shook his head, picked it up, and walked inside.





"Hey guys, which of you . . . "





Ray suddenly found himself facing the barrel of detective Frump’s gun,
and the bulk of detective Frump himself. "You're coming down the
station with me. I got a few questions for you."





Ray took a few steps back. "What’s going on, detective?" He protested.
He stared at his friends. "Peter, Egon, Winston, Janine? What’s going
on?"





Peter looked at Frump. "Is this really necessary? "





"I'm not taking any chances of him blasting me to pieces."





Ray looked at them his eyes full of confusion. "Guys, what's going on?"





Peter placed his hand on his shoulders. "Frump just needs to ask you
some questions kid. That’s all."





"Why? What did I do?" Ray looked bewildered. Since when had the police
ever held him at gunpoint? And since when had his friends not defended
him?





Frump didn't answer him. Instead, he grabbed Ray by the arm, pulled him
around, cuffed him, and read him his rights. Seeing no point in
provoking the detective further, Ray remained silent.





"Frump, we're going with you," said Peter. The other three nodded. Egon
looked at Janine. "Janine, you stay here in case we get a call. We’ll
have the cellphone will us, in case you need to reach us."





Janine nodded. She watched the guys follow as Frump led Ray out. Slimer
came down through the ceiling. "Where going? Ray all right?" he
burbled.





"To the police station, Slimer, and I'm not sure." Janine replied.





*********





They all sat in the interrogation room, staring at the television. It
was always the same no matter how much they wished it were otherwise:
arcs of proton beams crackling across the screen as Ray destroyed The
House of Roses restaurant. Ray looked in dismay at his friends.





"You guys don't really believe that's me? Do you?" He asked in alarm





Winston looked at him. "Ray, cameras don't lie."





"It's not me!" he protested.





Egon placed a hand on his arm. "This is my fault. I've been working you
too hard."





"You guys do believe it." Ray felt betrayed. This can’t be happening.
Why were they so ready to believe this, to buy in to the detective’s
side of the story? Where was the critical thinking that had made their
busting technology so successful? Ray put his head in his hands, and ran
his fingers through his hair, trying to collect him self.





"Ray, we don't want to, but it's there on the television."





Ray looked up at Peter, feeling more and more like a cornered animal.
"Look, I didn't do it! You have to believe me. That video could be a
forgery! Why won’t you listen to me?"

"Raymond, when my lab blew up this morning, you were knocked out for a
while. I think you did this, but you just weren’t yourself when you did
it."





Ray’s eyes took on a hard edge, as he tried to make his friends
understand. "I didn't do it!"





Winston looked at him. "Ray, where did you go on your walk?"





Ray stared at him, suddenly taken aback. "I don't remember."





Peter threw his hands in the air. "Oh come off it Ray. I can think of a
better excuse then that."





Ray had no response. He felt lost and helpless, like a little child
being reprimanded by his elders.





Mr. Spenser walked into the room, with Frump following behind. The
detective looked at them. "I don't know why but Mr. Spenser ia not going to
press charges as long as you pay for the damages."





Peter nodded his head. "We'll take care of it. Thank you for not
pressing charges."





Mr. Spenser nodded. "Just keep him on a leash."





Peter gave Mr. Spenser a sour look. Winston grabbed Ray’s arms to
prevent him from lunging at the man. "This is wrong! I didn’t trash your
restaurant! Peter, don’t listen to them! I didn't do it!" He tried to
wriggle free of Winston’s grip. But Peter just game him a warning look.





"Get in the car, Ray." he replied as he wrote out a check. Overruled,
Ray looked at his friend and shook his head. He wrested his arms free
from Winston, and stomped out of the police station, slamming doors
behind him as he left. He sat in Ecto-1, trying his best to remember what
happened during his walk, but he couldn’t remember a thing. Could that
mean that he did actually trash that restaurant? What could he have been
thinking?? How was it that the guys let him walk out of the firehouse
with a pack on his back, if he was in such bad shape? Suddenly
exhausted, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Suddenly, he vanished
and then reappeared. He opened his eyes . The other Ghostbusters came out
of the police station and got into Ecto-1. Ray sat in the back of
Ecto-1, smiling at them. His eyes, devoid of their usual warmth, were hard
and cold."





Egon climbed in front with Winston and turn around toward Ray.
"Raymond? Are you okay?" He asked with concern in his face.





"Just fine Egon, couldn't be better." Ray’s voice was flat and devoid
of emotion.





"Are you sure?"





"Yeah I'm fine. Thanks for asking."





Egon turned back around and looked at Winston, who just shook his head.
Peter placed his hand on the youngest Ghostbuster’s shoulder. "Ray,
when we get home, I want you to go lay down for a while."





"Anything you say." Ray leaned back again and said nothing else the
rest of the way home. Once they got to the firehouse he got out without
saying a word, and walked inside, brushing past a concerned Janine as
though she weren’t there.





"How’d it go down at the police station?"





Peter came up to her. "He's a little upset with us, Janine."





Janine nodded and turned back to her work wondering just what had
happened down at the station to make Ray seem so out of sorts.





********





Later on that evening, Egon was in his lab tinkering with his latest
invention. Ray had joined him after a long afternoon nap. "Just one more
adjustment, Raymond, and my new invention will be ready," Egon
declared, his eyes shinning with excitment.





Ray watched with a stony _expression as Egon made his final adjustment.
Egon stood back wiping his forehead with the back of his hand "This
took me forever. I'm so glad it's finally done."





Ray walked around the machine. "Pretty special, huh, Egon?"





"Yes. This is one of my greatest works, if I do say so myself." Egon
replied proudly. "It's going to take ghostbusting to a new level."





"Oh I don't know. I mean, if you take a sledge hammer to it, it might
not stand up."





Egon chuckled. "I don't plan to take a sledge hammer to it, Ray. I plan
on taking a shower. I can't wait to show Peter and Winston."





Ray nodded as Egon left the room. He then looked at the machine, a
malicious grin coming over his features. "Yes, I think a sledge hammer will
do nicely." He left and soon returned with the hammer. He rolled up his
sleeves, swung the sledge high over his head, and brought it down as
hard as he could on the machine.





BANG. BANG. BANG. The firehouse reverberated with the sound.





Egon heard the noise and ran out of the shower wrapped with only a
towel. He was greeted with the sight of his invention lying in ruins, Ray
standing victoriously over it, sledgehammer in hand.





TBC