Old-Fashioned Names are the Best and Sweetest

"Pick out a name for the rugrat yet?" Peter sits down at the table with his morning coffee and The New York Times.

Taking another bite of my donut, I shake my head no. Of course, I've thought about it on occasion, but Egon and I haven't actively taken the time to discuss such things.

"I have begun to prepare a list of my own suggestions," Egon interjects. Both Peter and I look at him, "You did?"

Egon glances between the two of us, "Why are you surprised...?"

Leaning over, I kiss him on the cheek. He was so cute when he was flustered. "I just didn't assume you'd have thought about it, is all."

"It's just a short list--" a blush reaches his ears in astonishing speed.

Taking his hand in mine, I grin, "I think it's sweet."

"Very sweet, Spengler," Peter smirks, taking another drink of his coffee.

I roll my eyes, electing to ignore Peter's snark. "Let's hear this list then."

The last thing I'm expecting is for Egon to pull a neatly folded piece of lined paper from his jacket, but here he is doing exactly that.

He actually has a list, and he carries it around with him.

"This should be good," Peter mumbles, suddenly looking interested in the conversation.

Egon reads off the first name, "Neal."

I'm not a fan of the baby sounding like a mini accountant, but in an effort to be kind, I don't shoot down the name. Instead, I choose to throw my own idea into the ring, "What about... Aaron?"

"Aaron's fine." Egon gets up, plucking a pen from a nearby stack of papers; he writes Aaron down on the list. "What about Caleb."

"I like Caleb. What do you think about Ezra?"

"I have a cousin Erza."

"So that's a no?"

"It's a no."

Fair enough. "What about girls? Did you write any girl names down on your list?"

"Of course," Egon clears his throat, "What about Irma?"

Peter snorts, "Irma?"

I don't exactly like the name Irma if the baby is a girl, but I still glare at Peter, "What's wrong with Irma?"

"You're joking," Peter shakes his head, baffled I'm not agreeing with him, "Irma Spengler sounds like your eighty-year-old neighbor with ten cats."

I look over at Egon, sympathetic, "He's got a point."

"Fine, it's your turn."

"How about Elsie?"

They both give me a look. Honestly, Egon suggested Neal unironically, and no one batted an eye! Elsie is not that bad; not bad enough to warrant the looks I'm getting.

"Are you two planning on naming a child or a librarian?" Peter interrupts once again.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot this was a group decision." I roll my eyes.

"I've been told I'm very helpful when it comes to making decisions."

"Please, tell me who told you that. I need to have a long discussion with them."

Peter makes a face at me, muttering under his breath as he opens his newspaper. He's such a child.

I turn back towards Egon, "Do you like Eliza? Or maybe Hazel?"

"See, those are names the kid could live with." Peter chimes in from behind the sports section.

I nod, "Eliza Spengler sounds cute."

"I do like Eliza."

"Good. So read me back what we've both liked for boys."

He glances down at the piece of paper, "Aaron and Caleb."

"We should probably have some other options... What about Oliver-- or Quinn. Those would sound nice."

"Quinn?" Peter snorts, "You two are horrible at this."

"Knock it off, Venkman," Egon comes to the rescue before I say something horrible but accurate back to Peter. "I like Oliver. Maybe it could be a middle name."

"I completely forgot about middle names..." Leaning back in my chair, I mentally go through the names we've liked. Aaron Oliver-- no... Caleb Oliver? Those combinations didn't quite give me any special feelings. I wanted the baby to have a strong, classic name, and ultimately it had to give me some sort of emotion. These names were fine, but they were just names. Not my child's name.

"Albert Spengler," Egon suggests.

I frown, "How could you look at a baby and call it Albert with a straight face?"

"It's a strong name--"

"I'm not calling my baby Albert." I have to put my foot down on this one. Honestly, how can he expect me to look down at our baby and call him Albert? That is if it is a 'him' at all.

"New ground rule: We are not naming the baby after any scientist. I don't care if they're your favorite."

Peter moves the newspaper to look at us, "Way to crush the man's spirit, (y/n)."

"Shut up, Venkman," Egon and I say at the same time.

He rolls his eyes, disappearing behind the paper again.

I feel deflated. Was this supposed to be so difficult? Usually, Egon and I were on the same page with most things, but we seemed to almost be in different chapters with what we should name the baby.

Egon's looking at the list again, "What about David?"

David... David Spengler... Warmth fills my chest as I repeat the name to him. "I really like David."

"We don't have to decide on it now, but it would be fair to say it's on the top of the list?"

Nodding, I turn towards Peter, "What do you think, Pete? Is David good enough for you?"

"It's your kid, (y/n). Does David sound good to you?"

I scowl, "You're insufferable."