Chapter Text
"I'm sorry, Holtzmann," Abby said, patting the engineer on the shoulder as they watched workmen tearing the wall out of the corner of her laboratory. "Jennifer from the mayor's office said we needed to install a full set of laboratory safety equipment in all our labs or they wouldn't be able to get anyone to insure us."
"That was my favorite corner," Holtzmann said, grimacing as one of the workmen bumped into the edge of the giant cinema-display monitor she used for her CAD work. "We don't really need a safety shower, do we?"
"Well," Abby said, glancing at Patty and Erin.
"Yes," Patty said.
"Yes, we do," Erin added.
"And an eyewash?" Holtzmann said, gesturing helplessly at the wall a little further along, where a plumber was running a branch off one of the waterpipes for the thing that looked a little like a water fountain on steroids.
"Remember the ectoplasm that got in Erin's eyes last week?" Abby said. "Because someone wasn't wearing her eye protection while experimenting on that class 1?"
"I was wearing eye protection," Erin said. "It was just inadequate when something was that accurate with ecto-projection."
"Or the oily-ass smoke from that thing that exploded two days ago?" Patty said. "My eyes are still stinging from that shit."
"And an extra concrete layer on the walls in the basement?" Holtzmann said. "We're losing close to forty square feet of space to that."
"Radiation containment is a cruel mistress," Abby said sympathetically.
"Come on, let's go for pizza," Erin said. "It'll just make us all sad to watch this."
Patty walked over, picked up the cinema display with one hand, unplugged it with the other, and carried it out with them. "We'll just stash this in your bedroom, Holtzy. Or do we need safety system installers in there too?"
"Nope, not at all!" Holtzmann said, a little too innocently.
---
"I don't intend to retire," Holtzmann declared to the 401K guy as they all sat around the table that was strewn with forms and informational pamphlets .
The poor guy smiled feebly. He'd just finished an hour-long form-filling sessions with Kevin. Kevin had not a hair out of place, but this guy's tie was askew and his hair product was failing, with the result that he had enough hair standing on end that he could be a Bernie Sanders stuntdouble if his salt-and-pepper hair just went a little whiter. "I admire that intention, Doctor, but there's always the need to be prepared for surprises…"
"Oh, I like surprises," Holtzmann said with a grin, leaning back in her chair and putting both her feet on the table, on top of her forms. "That's why I expect I'll probably go up in a large poof before I'm forty."
401K dude looked appealingly at Abby, who shrugged and smiled. "We'll probably all go up in a large poof sometime."
"Along with half of Manhattan," Patty groused as she paged through a mutual fund booklet.
"Wait, I can only have two beneficiaries?" Erin said as she filled out her form.
401K guy mopped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Perhaps if I leave the materials for you all to review…?"
"Oh, no," Holtzmann said, grinning and looking at him over her glasses. "I've changed my mind. I think it's best if we start this immediately. One never knows what surprises might loom on the horizon."
As he sprinted out the door with his briefcase, shedding forms and brochures like a chicken in a thunderstorm, Abby leaned on her elbow on the table and gave Holtzmann an accusatory look.
Holtzmann blinked. "It wasn't like that was a threat, come on. I didn't get to show him my latest gun. That might read as a threat."
Erin looked up, starting to hold her form out to 401K dude's empty chair. "Wait, where did he go? I wanted to ask why the city was only matching up to 3% instead of 6%."
"Because they're cheap fuckers, that's why," Patty said, dropping the booklet on the table. "The least they could do is give us the bennies they give MTA."
"No union for ghostbusting," Abby said, looking down at her half-completed form.
"Yet," Holtzmann said with a wicked grin.
---
"You're kidding me," Abby said, staring at Jennifer Lynch, who was, yet again, inside her personal bubble with insincere smile and political machinations.
"I wish I were," Jennifer said, clasping her hands in front of her. "EPA officials just want to talk to you about this little transporting hazardous waste across state lines issue. I'm certain you can convince them that ghosts don't count as hazmat."
Erin drifted into the conversation from the other side of the office. "Of course they don't. Ectoplasm is hardly hazardous at all. Just unimaginably sticky and gross."
As opposed to, say, our equipment, which I'm pretty sure qualifies as multiple unlicensed weapons of mass destruction, Abby thought. She said aloud, "Okay, that's the Feds, but why does Governor Christie's office want to talk to us?"
Jennifer laughed her especially grating "hearty" laugh, stopped laughing suddenly, gave her a hard, serious look, and said, "They're accusing you of stealing state artifacts."
"What?" Abby and Erin said in unison.
Jennifer grimaced and nodded. "Yep. Ghosts are now New Jersey historical artifacts, according to a resolution pushed through their state congress last week. By containing and removing that ghost from the courthouse in Newark, you stole one of their historic artifacts."
Abby gently banged her forehead into Erin's shoulder.
"Don't worry, though," Jennifer said, her artificial cheer restored. "The mayor's office is retaining a legal team for you. People who can handle any more inquiries from the Federal government or state historical issues. Oh, and we'll be bringing in a NAGPRA advisor for you to consult with as well."
The pair looked at each other, baffled by the acronym. Patty spoke up from where she'd been leaning against the doorjamb. "That'd be the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act, y'all. It's illegal to traffic in human or cultural remains of Native Americans. Are we calling ghosts 'human remains' now?"
"That's… in discussion," Jennifer said. "But I think it's best if we head that one off at the pass. Maybe create a containment environment that Native Americans can curate and maintain themselves?"
"That would be a huge undertaking," Holtzmann said from the other side of the doorjamb. "And the containment facility is currently highly experimental."
"Yes, well, I think they'll understand that this is a goal to be worked toward," Jennifer said nervously. Abby was always pleased to see that Holtzmann made pretty much everyone from the mayor's office jumpy.
Patty nodded, surveyed Erin's panicked countenance and Abby's uncertain one. "It's okay, y'all, I got this. I'll be the team liaison for this one."
Abby shot her a grateful look. Social sciences and the humanities for the win. She caught Jennifer giving Patty a similar look. Patty just inclined her head and said, "How about those requests I sent over last week?"
Jennifer looked like a deer in headlights for a moment, then said, "The requests from London and Barcelona?"
"Yup," Patty said. "I'm guessing that with all this Brexit bullshit, you're gonna have to talk to London separate from the EU."
"Well, yes," Jennifer said. "I'll just… consult with our staff member in charge of…"
"You shitcanned those requests, didn't you?" Patty said.
Jennifer deflated. "Yes. Yes, we did. We really don't have the resources to support you internationally right now…"
"Sounds like it's time for Mr. Mayor to get on the phone with Washington," Patty said. "Because we got four more international requests this week. And they're urgent. I'm guessing that if we don't respond, there'll be some international incidents, with some serious spectral evidence, if you catch my meaning."
"Well, shit," Jennifer said.