Doughnuts and Ectoplasm

Posted on Fri May 15th, 2020 @ 4:02pm by Captain Ash Shultz & Lieutenant Tchaikovsky Ford
Edited on on Tue Jul 21st, 2020 @ 6:37am

Mission: It's... A Bus Station
Location: Raleigh, NC
Timeline: 4th May, 2020 about 4pm

With a box of non-branded local bakery doughnuts safely tucked atop his jacket on the passenger seat, Ford had led the fleet from New York to Raleigh. It was about a twelve-hour drive, give or take allowing the big rig to even out on the highway, and he kept them in sight the whole way, despite the urge to push Ecto’s limits. He was hyped up on soda and down to his four least favorite pastries by the time he picked up the outer limit sign for Raleigh.

Hitting the city roads was where it was really at though, apple cinnamon traded for singing loudly to the steering wheel as he relished the stares from the general public. Sure, maybe he didn’t need the roof all lit up like that but fuck it, he wanted the attention. New town, old friends, and a change of scene. What could be better than that?

He’d already checked the route into the bus station out on Streetview, so Ford knew exactly how much clearance he had in order to make his entrance. He dropped into first gear, almost full lock, sped up until he felt the front end slip. Foot off the gas, felt the weight shift forward, and the back light. Foot to the floor. Spinning rear wheels, back end sliding towards the outer edge of the circle. Opposite lock. Reduce speed. Slide. Steer. More power. Circle. Wail the siren.

If anyone inside the bus station had been unaware of their arrival, they were wide awake now. A road dusty Ecto 1 doing doughnuts in the street drew just the right amount of attention to make Ford grin like a five-year-old who’d just been given his favourite birthday present ever.

"Ford," Ash signed with annoyance and went chasing after her frightened black-and-rust wiener dog.

When it was clear the dog was not going to come out from under her office desk, Ash decided to go meet Ford in person. So... she walked out the back door where the old bus loading lanes were to see Ford having far too much fun that he should.

Unamused, she folded her arms and waited.

ECTOL-1’s airhorn blasted Ford’s eardrums with enough warning to let him know his time was up. Move out of the way, the big rig demanded succinctly and with maximum volume. So, through a swift, routine sequence of switch flicks and button pushing, combined with feet on pedals and a definitive controlling hand on the wheel, he ceased and desisted.

With a nonchalant slide, the buster somehow managed to persuade Ecto-1 to neatly occupy a parking spot within easy reach of the nice lady with the stern, unhappy expression on her face. Ford unfolded long legs out onto the lot and beamed a big dumb grin at the petite figure with the feisty expression.

“Hey darlin’,” he drawled, clearly happy to see her. “You the boss now?”

"Looks that way," Ash spoke with sarcasm. She was wearing tan khaki cargos with her navy company polo shirt. "Think you missed a few areas needing doughnuts."

Ford cast a slow, deliberate look over his shoulder where the truck was parking up and frowned. He looked back to Ash, and raised his eyebrows. "Don't think so," he noted. With a slow upward stretch of his arms to drive out the kinks from the road, Ford then ducked down to lean a smiling face in close to Ash's own. "No kiss?" He asked, mock forlorn.

"I'll pass," Ash mock-smiled with a gleeful tone. "Guess driving the Ectos are just never gonna get old with you."

"Your call, Chief," said Ford with a casual air of indifference. He meant that. Her choice was just peachy fine. The look he cast back at Ecto-1 though, and 2 as it pulled in alongside the big rig, that was pure unadulterated love of the simplest kind. "No ma'am," he said, voice coloured with pure affection. "Not in this lifetime."

"Ash. I don' rather care for laurels," she countered and began to relax. Much as she wanted to keep that barrier between him, Ford's personality was just too infectious. "Suppose we should unload the proton packs from the Toll."

"Ash it is," Ford noted out loud and ducked his head in deference to that concession. She might be the boss, but that didn't change much in his eyes. She carried the responsibility was all. "Yes," he agreed, easily. "Let's offload, then you can buy me a drink. I spent the last of the petty cash on these bad boys," he jabbed a thumb towards the passenger seat and the crumpled box as he fell into line beside her strolling walk.

"Hmm..." She debated long while she stuck her nose in his car to smell the food... and the sweat that came with long rides in a car. "I could forgive the doughnuts, I guess... We'll eat those after we get back from a bar."

Ash began to direct the other drives on which slot to park their vehicles at, inside the bus port. There was a high-roof that protected buses and trucks mostly, while they waited to load passengers. At least, that was the original intent. Ash intended to turn the bus port into a 1-way entry so that mechanics could tune the cars and hauler with less exposure to the outside elements.

"So did you put in for this transfer, or were you drafted?" Ash asked casually as they followed the hauler slowly, and waited for it to park inside it's assigned port slot.

“Sugar and caffeine,” Ford chuckled. “And a burger. And fries. And a milkshake.” He cast his gaze upwards to the sky as if contemplating some vitally important matter, then added. “Oh, and some peanuts.”

“Little bit of both,” he answered Ash’s question. “They tried to draft me, then I found out you were gonna be in charge, so I requested the transfer.” Ford grinned. “Excited?” He was, clearly.

Ash was perplexed. Why Ford held zero grudge with her personal treatment of him in the past, seemed an enigma. Most people, male or female, would feel offended over her disappearance act.

“Figure we get this lot stashed safely, you give me the tour and then we get drunk.” He waggled a level palm before him and beamed happiness. “Well, drink anyways. Y’know… I thought you’d get something fancier, who’d you piss off this time?” Ford mused out loud.

"I requested Miami," Ash told him, looked quickly at the run-down motel next door, and then shook her head. "Founders learned I grew up in North Carolina and thought that might be an easy-in to political crap-oh-lah... You know how our corporate overlords think."

Ash opened the side door of the trailer, pulled down the step ladder, and climbed inside the lab. With a flick of the lights, the pristine silver counters and cabinets built into the walls shone bright. And at the far-end, close to the cab, were two bunks that four people could sleep comfortably on.

There were no laptops, tablets, or anything else techy besides the anti-ghost weapons. For which Ash walked them to the first tall storage locker. Instantly, she passed him a proton pack.

“Pfft,” Ford exhaled. “Miami’s too hot and full of old people. This place is gonna be way more fun, trust me.” He’d had Erik jabbering at him from the back-seat since they’d left New York, but that voice was easy enough to ignore these days. “Besides Founders are right - you know the locale, that’s half the battle already won.” He laughed. “Corporate overlords don’t care about the details, long as our PR is sound.”

Hopping up into the trailer, Ford studied the layout and noted the bunks. Yup, this would do nicely as a base, he decided, besides sleeping without wheels under the flooring never felt quite right. He took the proton pack, instinctively checking the switches on the side, and swung it onto his back with a lazy confidence.

“I can carry two,” he offered, waiting for the second to be handed to him. For which Ash complied.

She as well, placed a pack on, and then carried the other. "There's a storage compartment designed for these in the basement. Originally meant as a bomb shelter. But instead of keeping it out, it keeps the radiation in."

"A bomb shelter huh?" Ford screwed up his face and led the way towards the building. "Yeah, that'll work. Containment system up and running yet?"

"Should be," Ash shrugged. She knew where to store them. Not how to tell if things like that were faulty.

Ever the gentleman, he held the door open and gestured with a flourish of a long arm for Ash to go through first.

She did and pointed to the stairs at their right. The place was not nearly as smelly but the lights still flickered awfully bad. The floors were wood, stained a deep chestnut-red. She was about to comment on all the updates still needed, when she heard the nails of her dog, skittering across the steps that led to the second floor.

Little Dilla barked loud with her yippy-hound voice, which echoed through the building, letting her owner know that she was not happy with the sirens or the horns.

"Mommy's here. You're fine, Sweetheart," Ash laughed with a small amount of sympathy for her dachshund. "Last you saw her, I believe she was seven months."

The dog gave Ford's pantleg a sniff... and decided to pay less attention to him and instead stayed on her owner's heels.

"Heya Killer," Ford cooed affectionately to the little dog. He grinned as Dilla checked him out with a cursory sniff and then returned to her momma.

Ash led them down the single flight of stairs and through the basement door. She flipped a light and pointed to the vault door on the far-left corner. Then sat one of the packs down as she typed the password in.

"Still a nervous lil thing huh?" He noted as he followed Ash downstairs, and quietly memorised the code when it was entered.

"Some dogs are like that," Ash nodded in agreement before she opened the vault. "...I honestly didn't think you'd welcome being here, after our..." She trailed off again. Discomfort and awkward didn't come close to describing it. "Well... after our... thing."

"Our thing?" Ford asked, his expression coloured with great amusement and his tone light and mock confused. "We had sex - good sex - Ash. It's not like you married me, forced me to have a bunch of kids with you and then divorced me for my immense personal wealth. Why would I be mad?" A nonchalant shrug and Ford canted his head to the side, picked up the third pack and followed Ash into the vault as he added. "I just figured you got a better offer someplace else. No harm done."

"It's hard for me to commit to a relationship," Ash confessed with a frown. A quality she honestly wished was not there at times. "Good to know there's no hard feelings."

Ash began to hang the packs on their shelves and offered to take one from Ford.

Ford rolled his eyes in a comedic fashion. "Don't worry, I didn't come here to force you into a romance," he said, his tone lighthearted as he handed her the pack she'd put down to open the vault door. "Just came to help out. Starting your own station is a lot of work, figured you'd be happy to have some friendly help." He went quiet as he took the second pack from his back and hefted it up onto the shelf, then added. "If you're not, just tell me. No offence taken." He accompanied that comment with a mock forlorn look because, in all honesty, Ford was really looking forward to starting over in a new place. They were always more exciting, places when they were new.

"Bishop's right," Ash conceded with a smirk. "I need help... And it's good to have it from someone I've worked with before - though a shame you never transferred permanently to Philly. But to be fair, as political as it is to run a station, Philly was political on every member of that station."

Packs stowed, Ford took a moment to study the vault itself, from a comfortable position leaning against the entry point. "Guess I'll stick around for a little bit then," he said with an easy nod. "But yeah, Philly..." he changed his mind and screwed up his face. He didn't want to get into the politics of talking about the politics. "Not my scene," Ford admitted. Then he patted the vault door affectionately and beamed a smile. "Something about this place though, just feels right."

"Well... I suggest you read up on Carolina folklore then," Ash suggested as she left the vault and headed up the stairs for their last load of packs. The shock blast guns were likely only to need 1 trip. "Lotta ghost stories about famous local Civil and Revolutionary War vets as well as ghost stories dating as far back as tha early settlement on Roanoke."

Ford paused at the top of the stairs and shot Ash a wolfish grin. "Sounds like some great bedtime reading. You could always read me some?" He suggested lightly, then aimed for the truck and the rest of the packs.

"I think you're too old for that," Ash laughed wholeheartedly.

"Never too old for a good story," he noted swiftly with a smile. His stomach growled as they crossed the parking bays, and Ford paused in the doorway to the back of ECTOL-1.

"But, Ash, in all seriousness," he said, brow slightly furrowed as he tried to maintain that intensity. "A lot of ghost stories means a lot of chances to shine, to show off and to impress those who are watching us." Ford patted Ash affectionately on the shoulder as they stepped up into the truck proper. "It'll be fun," he promised, happiness bright in his eyes as he grabbed another couple of proton packs for their transfer over to the vault. "Honestly, I'm looking forward to it."

Even Roanoke? Yeah, screw it, even Roanoke.

"Well... if you're here. Yes, it will be a party," Ash smiled. "Just promise nothing idiotic like TPing the governor mansion's trees or somesuch... We don't want to piss off the people we may eventually need favors for getting to and from special cases."

Ash took another pack and put it on, then picked another pack to carry.

Ford pointed a finger at his own chest and made 'who me?!' face back at his friend. "I'm hurt, Ash," he said, "deeply wounded." He didn't look it, the gleam in those dark blue eyes wasn't darkened in the least. "But yeah, I'll try. But some people just deserve a little pranking. If it happens, I'll be sure not to leave any fingerprints, k?"

Why oh why did Ford's promise not comfort her. Ash began to suspect she may eventually develop migraines with the amount of trouble some of the station staff may bring her way.

Loaded up again, he walked beside her back to the building. "One more trip?" Ford said rather than asked. "And then a cold beer.... Right?"

"Oh yeah... We can go out to a bar, or drink the Guinness in the fridge," Ash offered as they re-entered the building.

"How bout we grab some food and a couple beers in a bar, then head back and hit the fridge?" Suggested Ford. "Best of both, and Dilla's not on her own for too long." This time he took the lead down to the vault and entered the code.

Dilla, at this point, decided to lounge on the couch in the visitor area, rather than greet her mommy every time they came through a door.

"I will likely stick to the shock blast as my preferred weapon," Ash told Ford as they entered the vault. "...You still rockin' the pack most the time?"

Ford gently patted the front of the pack that hung against his chest. "Mostly, yeah," he confirmed, then lifted it up onto a shelf and turned to Ash. "Been pretty quiet lately though. I'm just gonna go ahead and jinx us, but I'm really looking forward to some real action. Anyone else we know on our team?"

"So far, we're the old dogs, but I'm gonna pay a visit to a Navy man that's been benched from flight." Ash smiled, sure of herself. "Might even try and get him to go full-career for us, seeing the Navy don't think he's actually seen ghosts. At least, that's what the rumors say."

A chocolatey chuckle and Ford stowed the last pack, then as they wandered back up to the visitor area he spoke. "I'll come with you," he offered rather than insisted. "Navy, huh? You'd think there'd be plenty of restless dead lurking about that big ol ocean."

"Oh, there are," Ash answered with dark eyes. Haunted eyes. As if she knew and witnessed something she wished she hadn't. "I mean... if you think about it, there's likely a ton of ghosts from so many naval battles and accidents since the invention of the boat. South Pacific is said to be the most haunted, with sunken World War II ships and subs."

Ford nodded. He'd read the reports (some time after the actual events themselves of course) with regards to the Titanic finally showing up in New York in '89, but he hadn't spent that much time out on the ocean. There had always been more than enough to keep him amused on dry land. "You okay?" He asked Ash, recognising that look well enough. "And yeah, agreed, that's what I was thinking - Navy guy - ghost overload."

Ash supposed she should tell Ford of her gift. He was part of her senior staff, after all. Bishop knew, but he'd figured it out on his own and never really talked about it with Ash.

"I drink to drown out the voices of the dead often," Ash finally confessed. "...Hot spots where the dead cry to be heard, I avoid like the plague because the voices never cease. It's why I was a bit high on those brownies I had, before the Ghost Battle at Gettysburg. Bishop gave them to me, to be able to function. Said he needed me to keep my witts and my ears open."

How had he not know this already? Ford screwed up in his face, not in annoyance or irritation, but in disbelief and sympathy. Ash was a medium? Kinda explained a few things. "Damn," he said, in a lazy but empathetic drawl. "So Bishop knew, huh?" He tried to keep any emotion from his voice, but there was perhaps a tiny bit of hurt there and not sharing the secret. "He was right though," Ford noted. "Dangerous to be fighting what you can hear chit chattering away at you. Imagine it's emotionally challenging too." He stepped back just enough to widen his arms in an offer of a friendly hug. "Time for drinking," he added, with a hopeful grin. They could talk more in the comfort of the bar, with Ash-amour-of-alcohol.

"Yeah... We should drink," Ash agreed. "I'll lock Toll and we can finish later. Uber or do you really want to drive Ecto-1?"

"Uber," said Ford, with an accompanying pout. His next emphasis was on the third word that followed. "While I really wanna drive Ecto-1, I don't really wanna park it up out there while we're drinking. She'll be safer here." He indicated the door. "Shall we? First round's on me, let me just grab my jacket."

"Sure," Ash agreed and went to Toll to lock it up for the day.

Jacket grabbed, Uber summoned, Ford beamed a bright grin. "Today," he said, enthusiastically. "Is a good day."