Title: Second Chances.

Disclaimer: The characters from the Ghost and Mrs. Muir belong to 20th Century Fox and David Gerber Productions. I don't own them and don't make any money off of them, only borrow them. Brendan Darcy, Sarah Carver, the students at Winthrop High and anyone else who doesn't come to mind from the show are mine and may not be used without my express permission.

Rating: On this chapter K+ but over all a T rating.

Summary: The afterlife that Daniel Gregg has learned to accept especially in regard to his relationship with the lovely Carolyn Muir has just been turned upside down.

Thanks to everyone who has helped with this tome, especially Mary who has read it piece by piece and did the beta. (and will hopefully continue!)

Chapter 1

His first clue to the situation should have been when he woke up. Since he had been in a ghostly state, he had not had a night's sleep in over a hundred years; but here he was in bed, wearing blue-striped pajamas, and he had been sleeping.

He rubbed the "sand" from the corner of his eyes, noticed he had morning breath, and wondered what HAD he eaten the night before? The last thing he remembered was having some Madeira and a cheese ball that Martha had left over from the PTA ladies that day. He and Carolyn had taken the treat up to the balcony where he had set up a table and two chairs and they had eaten by candlelight. He remembered that distinctly. So, where was he? As he put his feet on the wooden floorboards he realized that he was not in Gull Cottage. Not even close.

It wasn't a bad looking place. It appeared to have three rooms; the living room he saw through the open bedroom door was tastefully decorated. Walking into the room he saw a couch, and overstuffed chair, a television and stereo outfit, and a collection of ships' models on shelves. A fireplace was on one end and a piano on the other. The kitchen was quite modern, and very tiny, but had lots of cabinets. But why was he here? It didn't make one bit of sense.

He realized that strange noise he was hearing was the doorbell and wondered if he should answer it. He was certain that whoever it was would be expecting someone else, and what would they do when they saw him?

Before he could decide what to do, the door flew open and young woman came bursting in, walking up to him, and shaking her head in disgust. "Hurry up and get dressed, darling." She headed for the bedroom and began pulling clothes out of his closet. You mustn't be late!"

Vanessa?

Surely it wasn't, that wouldn't make sense. But, looking around the apartment and seeing himself here, he figured it was par for the course. She certainly looked like Vanessa, with her long dark hair and graceful way of moving. She was dressed in as modern a style as the furniture looked and he noticed for the first time ever that she had very nice legs. What had he been thinking — marrying a woman whose legs he had never seen, not once, not even an ankle.

"Daniel!" Her voice was starting to sound irritated. "Get in here please and get dressed. This interview today is very important and could determine our future."

"Our future?" He felt drunk, he thought, as he walked over to the bed where she had laid three different suits and waited for him to pick one.

"Don't be obstinate, darling." She picked up a blue shirt and threw it at him. "Of course our future!" She flashed her left hand in front of him, showing off a huge diamond ring. Vanessa had always liked big jewelry, while he preferred smaller elegant pieces... like Carolyn's pearls.

"If you get this position as head of the history department at Chivington, it will mean more money, social prestige, and a stable life for our children."

"We have children?"

"Daniel Gregg, I'm not in the mood for your jokes right now. You know as well as I do that we have discussed children and we would like to have one or two, but we can't right away, not with your current salary, which is why it's very important that you get this job at Chivington. So don't forget to leave Winthrop at noon and tell Mr. Eddleson that you might not be back. If Chivington likes you, they might hire you on the spot and you won't want to be saddled down with a two-week's notice. Now, please Daniel, get dressed."

Much to his relief, Vanessa drove him to whatever this Winthrop was and he wondered briefly what a Chivington was and how he would get there. He did find out on the ride through slower than slow traffic that he and Vanessa had been engaged for two years and were, supposedly getting married in June. She worked for a company called Madrigal's Designs and was an interior decorator; which, he was sure, explained the contents of his apartment. Looking out the windows as his fiancée talked on and on, he was surprised to find himself in Boston. That couldn't be either, but as the buildings went by, most of them so old they had been ancient when he was a lad, there was no denying the fact.

Finally, Vanessa pulled the car up in front of a huge stone building, with wide windows, and imposing white doors. The sounds of children came from the back. It was a school. Why were they stopping at a school?

"Good luck, darling." She gave him a perfunctory kiss before practically throwing him out of the automobile. "Call me when your interview is over." He was barely on the sidewalk before she buzzed away.

So what should he do now?

"Good morning, Captain!" a cheery-looking redhead, about sixteen or so, came running up to him. "I got my paper done, on time and everything. I hope you like it." She ran off before he could stop and ask her what she was talking about.

Two other girls walked by him, giggling their hellos, a third girl with a serious face and a mane of chestnut hair approached him, her hands twisting around the straps of her purse. "Can I talk to you for a minute, Captain?"

"Of course." he nodded, drawn to her apparent nervousness. So, he must be a teacher?

"We can talk on our way to the room, the bell will ring soon," she said, and he was grateful to have someone to follow.

Taking in as much of his surroundings as he could, he did see a few teenage boys in the mix, so it wasn't a girls' school as it had looked at first. Someone waved to him, the girl, calling out "Hello, Captain Gregg, hey, Laurel." as they went past.

"I just wanted to tell you that I hope your interview goes well at Chivington today," her voice was low. "But if you don't mind me saying so, I really wish you would stay here. You are the best teacher we have ever had. And I've had to wait all these years just to be old enough to get in your class and I would hate to think my little brother would be denied that privilege. Plus, you do so much for the school, coming to all the games and even offering to sponsor the cheerleaders so that Mrs. Ramiki would feel guilty and do it."

She stopped, a huge grin on her face.

Apparently whatever he had done on the cheerleader subject was something that was thought of with fondness?

"Laurel," he sighed, not sure what to say and thankful he remembered the girl's name. "Thank you for telling me how you feel. I'm not, well, I'm not completely sure about Chivington, but I guess everything will work out as it should."

"Well, they did ask you to interview!" She had stopped in front of a classroom door, so he did as well. "I hear they hardly ever do that. I mean, they know they would be getting the best history teacher ever."

The bell rang and the girl took her seat, leaving Daniel to walk to the desk all alone. Sitting down in the seat, he looked out over the sea of faces, about twenty-five, he supposed, and he wondered again: What was he doing here? And what was he going to do with all of these young men and women?

"Do you want our papers on your desk?" an especially tall boy asked from the back of the room.

"That would be good," he answered, thankful that at least someone had gotten the ball rolling. He soon had a thick pile of papers on the desk in front of him and he wondered what he should do with them.

"When do you think we will know our grades?" a dark-headed boy at the front of the class asked. "I'm sure I got an A."

"Shut up, Donald," someone hissed from the back.

"I will get to them as soon as I can," he said, realizing he didn't even know what day it was. Glancing down at the top paper, he saw it was about the battle of Vera Cruz, as was the one underneath it and the one about five back.

"So, we've been discussing the Mexican War," he said hoping it didn't sound like a question.

"The first naval landing," a blonde nodded in the middle.

Once he started talking about the war and that fateful day that the army had landed, using the navy in that capacity for the first time, he began to relax and soon found he was enjoying himself. Telling the story as he remembered it from being there, he saw the kids taking notes, asking questions, and actually groaning when the bell rang.

"Good luck on your Chivington interview," several of them said as they filed out of the classroom. "I hope you don't like it there."

Another class followed that one, studying the same thing and he didn't know what to do but talk, so he did. Teaching was something he had never considered for his life, but he was having a good time.

When they left, the classroom remained empty even though both bells had rung so he picked up a book on his desk that said "Planner." On the front page was 'This Book Belongs to Daniel Gregg' and inside was his schedule, telling him that third period was his planning time. Another quick look showed him that he had one more class of American History after lunch and then one of Massachusetts' history.

He suddenly realized he was hungry. Walking out into the hallway, he looked at the rows of lockers and closed doors, a sign on the wall announced a Winter Carnival in three days' time, another reminding students that senior pictures would be next week.

"So, are you already too good to talk to us?" A woman came up to stand beside him. "Even a whiff of Chivington, and we aren't your buddies anymore?" But he could tell by the way she said it that she was teasing. She was an attractive lady, he couldn't help but notice, blonde, tall, with nice eyes. "Come on to the lounge with me." She started walking. "I've got something for you."

He followed her down a hallway, down a flight of stairs, and up a shorter set before going into a pleasant room with two love seats, a table and four chairs, a stove and refrigerator, coffee maker and two vending machines. A sign on the open door said "Teachers Only," which must mean she was a teacher.

"Daniel, you know I hope, that we only want the best for you and if you think teaching at Chivington is it, then let it be. But, we will miss you, and the public school system will be losing a lot. Hey, at least Chivie will have a decent teacher for once." She laughed, but he thought he saw tears welling up in her eyes. "Anyway, I got you something, just a little good luck charm for your interview today."

It was a small round stone, brilliantly polished and just fit in the palm of his hand. "They call it a worry stone, but it gives you something to hold on to when you're aren't sure what to do or say and it hopefully will remind you of who gave it to you. I picked the greenish one, because I know that's your favorite color."

"Thank you." He felt awkward, obviously knowing this woman very well and not sure what to do. He didn't even know her name! He finally hugged her; her perfume filled his nostrils and a feeling of homesickness washed over him. Of course, it was possible for more than one woman to wear the same scent, but he had never thought about it before. She smelled so much like Carolyn that he wanted to cry.

She pulled away from him, giving him a smile that was a bit too casual. "I'll make you some coffee before you go. That should calm your nerves a little. How are you getting over to Chivie anyway, since Vanessa..." she drew the name out, "wrecked your car?"

"I imagine I'll take a taxi," he said, hoping it came out as a statement and not a question. He hated feeling helpless, and right now he was more helpless than at any time in his life. Everyone had the advantage over him. it seemed. Why was he here and not at Gull Cottage? Was there anyone who could tell him?

"There, hot and fresh just like you like it." She gave him a mug, then poured one for herself. "I never saw anyone drink coffee the way you do, Daniel Gregg," she chuckled.

But I don't drink all that much coffee, he thought. That was Carolyn. Except that I did, when I was alive.. it's like coming home to have a cup of coffee. But why am I alive now?

He saw a phone over in the corner and wondered if he could somehow call her. Why didn't I ever pay attention to what the number was? At least maybe I can call Claymore; perhaps he can explain what is going on. Or maybe not.

The bell for the next class rang and she got up hurriedly, throwing the rest of her coffee down the sink, before coming over to kiss his cheek and hug his shoulders. "Good luck if you want it," she said softly. "I'll keep an eye on the substitute and make sure she makes your students behave." With that, she was out the door.

Looking around to make sure that no one was coming in, he picked up the phone and asked for directory assistance. He did know a thing or two about how to make things work. He asked the operator for Schooner Bay, Maine, but she informed him that she didn't have a listing for that. "What exchange is it in?" she asked sharply.

"Exchange?"

"What phone exchange. If it's a small town, it will be listed in an exchange with several other towns and villages. I need that exchange."

"I'll call back." He hung up the receiver, letting out a long sigh.

"Daniel, your limo is here." An older man poked his head in the door. "And for the record, I hope you don't get the job."

Sure enough, there was a black limousine waiting out in the front of the school for him and he got in the back seat cautiously. The driver merely nodded at him and then closed the divider between them, leaving the seaman alone with his thoughts. Looking out at the city around him, he noticed the buildings were getting better and older, with a fine touch of sophistication everywhere. Last night he had been at Gull Cottage. He had had the sweet rendezvous with Carolyn, and then had done his nightly rounds. Candy had had trouble sleeping and he had fixed her some warm milk with nutmeg; afterwards he had gone to the wheelhouse to work on Jonathan's Christmas present, grateful for the four weeks until the holiday. That was the last thing he could remember before he had awoken in the apartment in those ridiculous pajamas.

Why was he here and why was Vanessa here? It was most definitely Vanessa, in all of her glory. When her great-great granddaughter had shown up at Gull Cottage almost two years ago now, he had forgotten the things he had found distasteful about her and had dwelled on her charm and her beauty. Thank God he had gotten over that. This was Vanessa, just as she had been. She had begged him to give up his life aboard ship and take a position at a local firm, where he could sit behind a desk all day and wear a nice suit, and he had almost done it. He would have, if it hadn't been for two things; a good friend and the hope that he would still find true love. And well, yes, also the fact that he was his own man, but that wasn't really what was important, he supposed.

He wasn't sure what to do now. As an avid reader of Jules Verne and H.G. Wells, he knew what could happen if you upset the delicate balance of time. He was fairly sure it wasn't a dream, because everything was so real. Everyone just seemed to readily accept him as he was. The first thing he would need to do is find out exactly who he was; that would help. And how had he gotten hooked up with Vanessa and who was the teacher who had given him the stone?

Chivington was exactly the kind of school that he hated. The buildings dated back to the 1700's and an imposing courtyard loomed ahead. A young man came out to meet him, introducing himself as Dean Abel and said he would take him to see the Headmaster. They were excited about the Boston Public Schools' teacher of the year for five years running coming to teach for them. It would be a great improvement to their academics and would look much better on their students' college essays.

Waiting in the outer office for Headmaster Hughes to see him, he looked around at some of the plaques and articles on the wall. Chivington was a girls' school he found out, and had been established in 1750 as an academy for young ladies. According to the article, it had become a normal school in the 1940's, but still taught home-making and social deportment. He also noticed that Dexter Academy in Philadelphia was one of the their brother schools. Jonathan going there.

Charles Hughes was larger than life and seemed to think the entire interview process was a waste of time. "You already know what we are willing to pay you; this position is for the head of the history department, a job that is usually filled from within, but for someone of your reputation we are more than happy to make that exception. I suppose you will want to give a notice at Winthrop High," he said the name of the school like it was a disease. "But since this is the end of the year, you can just start here in January and what you figure out with them will be between you and them. I think that should wrap it up. If you will stop and see my secretary, she will call for Dean Able to show you around the grounds and see your office so that you can start planning what you will need."

"If I take the position." Daniel pressed on the worry stone in his pocket so hard he thought it might break.

"If?" The older man's eyebrows rose with his question. "What do you mean... if?"

"I'm not sure I want to leave my current school for this one." He shook his head. "I will need some time to think about it."

"Well, this is most unexpected. I was assured that you would accept it without hesitation. I mean after all, this is Chivington... the top rated academy for young ladies in the United States. You just don't think about working here, especially when the job is practically handed to you."

"Nevertheless, I would like to think about it."

"Captain Gregg," the man was trying not to be angry, "this job is not just a teaching job; it could determine the course of your life. You will never get paid more, have a position with more social standing, and it will look good on a resume. This school has launched senators, mayors, and governors from its staff, something we are more than a little proud of. You will be getting married soon, I understand. Don't you want your wife to have the best possible life you can give her?"

He sat in a deja-vu fog, squeezing the stone between his fingers until it hurt. It had been so long ago, but this conversation was dreadfully close to the one he had with Randolph Honeycutt, the man who Vanessa had wanted him to work for. In that case, it had been as a business executive for Honeycutt International, but it all boiled down to the same thing.

"When do you need a final decision?" he asked, standing up as he started to feel his confidence come back.

"I will need to know by Monday." The other man still couldn't believe this was happening.

"I will let you know then." Which gives me three days, he thought. Three days to find out why I am here, where Carolyn is, and try to figure out what is going on.

It wasn't much, but it was all he had.