Midnight in Manhattan found Winston Zeddemore prowling the streets during one of his insomniac moments. He should have been tucked away in his bed sleeping soundly, allowing his mind the freedom to think of anything to keep him entertained, but here he was, aimlessly walking while keeping a keen trained eye open.
He usually preferred the theater district, gazing at the bright lights like most tourists. The theatergoers were dressed to the nines, covered in furs, sparkling thanks to diamonds. White teeth dazzled in smiles as they gushed over the latest play or musical they just witnessed.
When the last throng of people vacated the theater, Winston gazed at his watch. It was nearing three o'clock. Heaving a sigh and noting that he wasn't the least bit sleepy, he headed for the nearest subway entrance. With the rest of the nightlife, he paid his fair and walked through the turnstile. Some of the people were homeless, but there were others like him, restless.
He patiently waited near the platform for his train. The wait didn't take too long for he could feel the ground rumble near his feet as his train appeared at the end of the tunnel and filled the room. The doors of the ancient train squealed as they opened. He entered and headed for an empty seat.
With a sigh and a grunt, Winston sat down and settled for the 20-minute ride that would take him back to the firehouse. He closed his eyes and stretched his legs, letting the bumping and clattering of the train lull him into a doze. The train approached its next stop and the doors slid open. Winston opened his eyes, watching as people entered and exited. The doors closed again and the train started to clatter down the tracks.
He closed his eyes and settled back in his seat. The train bumped and clacked as usual, but this time he felt different. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as it always did when there was a ghost present.
Winston's eyes flew open and with feigning boredom, he carefully inspected each of the passengers on the train. He looked up into the mirror that was perched near the entrance of the door. The train operator used the mirrors to make sure the doors were clear of people so they could close the doors. In the reflection of the concave mirror, he saw a woman sitting four seats behind him.
The woman's face was round with a youthful appeal of a teenager though Winston was sure she was well into her late twenties-early thirties. Her black hair was pulled atop of her head in a ponytail. Two pairs of earrings that decorated her earlobes, the white rhinestones shimmering in the pale train light. Her skin was a few shades lighter than his was. Her brown eyes darted around the train, never settling in one place.
She had to be the ghost. He could feel it. He saw her eyes settle on him, grow wide and quickly dart away. Her hands nervously plucked at the sleeves of her dark blue fleece jacket. Casually, he turned in his seat so he could get a better look at her. She seemed to flinch at his movement, rubbing her palms on the legs of her jeans.
The train stopped again and the last few people on the train stepped off. Now they were the only two people left on the train. She fidgeted in her seat for a second and then stood up. Slowly, she walked down the aisle towards Winston. She sat one seat away and looked forward.
Winston cocked a dark eyebrow. It seemed to take a lot of effort for her to just walk down the aisle, and now that she made it, she was just going to sit and stare out the window?
"Umm..." he started. "Excuse me?"
She startled and turned to look at him, the ponytail bouncing against her nape. "Ye--Yes?" she stammered.
"Something I can help you with?" he asked, turning in his seat to face her.
Her brown eyes widened slightly as a light red tint covered her cheeks. "Well..." she started. "There is something I need help with." Her hand went to the ponytail, one of her fingers twirling in the long tresses.
Now both eyebrows were high in the air. "Really? What can I do for you?" he asked, feeling slightly flushed himself. It wasn't everyday women came from nowhere asking for his help.
"I know you're one of the Ghostbusters," she said, looking at her hands. "Who better to help a ghost, than a Ghostbuster?" She reached out and touched his hand. The coolness of her skin sent a chill up his arm. She was very corporeal compared to some other ghosts he'd seen, but nonetheless still a ghost. "The thing is, I want to move on, but I can't because I have one thing I would like to do."
Winston fought the chill in the touch and covered her hand with his own. "You have a final wish?"
She nodded, the blush growing deeper on her face. "I was 26 when I died. I'd never...kissed a man."
Winston's eyes grew wide. "So you want me to..." he trailed off. He looked at her in wonder. He didn't claim to be the world's best kisser, but he'd never kissed a ghost before!
"To be honest," she continued. "When you guys first started, you were my favorite. All my friends liked Peter, but I liked you the best. I guess you could say I had a crush on you." A small giggle escaped her lips and she quickly covered her mouth with her free hand.
Winston smirked. He finally had a fan and she was a ghost. Whenever the guys had a bust, Winston preferred helping them resolve peacefully instead of snapping them shut in a trap for all eternity. Besides, the Christian in him couldn't deny a simply final request. "Well, I usually know the girl's name before I kiss her."
She gasped. "I'm sorry. My name was--is Victoria," she stated. "You would actually--help me?"
Winston nodded. "It would be wrong for me not to help."
Her hands went into a flurry of action; fixing the ponytail, touching her lips, her hands even checked to see that both sets of earrings were still in place. "I guess I should move closer," she said breathlessly, scooting closer towards Winston.
Winston held up a stopping hand. "But first, I need to know SOMETHING about you before I can just kiss you. I don't kiss random strangers," he added with a grin.
She paused and smiled. "Right, well...All my life I was about school. I went directly to the university after high school and continued my studies."
"What university did you go to?" Winston asked.
"I went to University of Minnesota, did a double major in biology and chemistry. After graduation, I had a nice job with the Mayo clinic. I was so wrapped up in my job and getting ready for grad school, I didn't have time for a relationship." She sighed loudly, looking her hands on her knees. "Now I just regret it."
Winston felt his heart going out to the girl. She did everything right but she still desired one simple final thing. "How did you..." he let the word remain unspoken. He wanted to know how she died.
A look of anger flashed across her face. "My selfish roommate did me in. She was jealous that I was moving on in my life. She stole a few of my papers I did for biology and passed them off as her own. When I confronted her, she killed me." She looked up; her once soft brown eyes hardened to brown hard marble. "She hit me on the head with a statue and left me to die."
He held her hand in his. "I would be honored to help you. You could say I have a soft spot for scientists." Winston released her hand then put his arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer. Suddenly he felt awkward. He nervously licked his lips. Why did he feel like a teenager in high school?! He knew the answer, it was because she'd never kissed a man before and he certainly didn't want to screw that up.
She blushed and snuggled deeper in the haven of his arm around her. "I'm sorry, I feel like a child." She lowered her eyes. "I don't want to sound like a stalker, but I've imagined this once before."
He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face so her eyes would meet his. Her face was flushed and her eyelids were at half mast. Her lips were open slightly in a small pout. He used his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer and placed his other arm around her waist. She tilted her head and moved closer, their lips softly touching.
A little sound escaped her as she relaxed in his arms, letting him control the kiss. For what seemed forever, Winston granted Victoria her one last kiss. Her hand snaked up to his face, caressing his cheek. He noted that her touch was no longer cold, but now warm and growing warmer by the second.
With a sigh, they broke apart. Her apple cheeks were flushed and her brown eyes had a dreamy look in them. The hand on his cheek rubbed again as she smiled softly. "Thank you, Winston. Thank you so much."
He kept his arms around her, continuing the embrace. A grin slid across his face. "It was the best kiss a ghost ever gave me."
She giggled and laid her head on his shoulder. "I can go now."
He hugged her tightly. "Go in peace."
Her form started to shimmer brightly. "Thank you," she repeated softly, slowly shimmering away from view. "Thank you," her voice said with a slight echo.
Within seconds, she was gone and Winston's arms were empty, remembering the feel of her body and the warmth that emanated from her. He hugged himself hoping to keep that after-glow. Her soft floral scent was slowly fading.
Winston finished his train ride home, vowing never to forget the young woman. It was sad for the world to lose a promised life so young. She could have been earthbound due to the anger of her death, forced to walk the world for all eternity due to rage. It showed that she was kind hearted in the end because all she wanted was one last kiss.
"A Ghostbuster's job is never done," he said softly to himself as he settled in his bunk and finally closed his eyes, the feeling of the woman's body still fresh in his mind.
The End