A/N 1/24/2010: This first chapter has been reedited. I also added a prologue, which is basically an extended version of the prologue in my 'Oneshot Wonderland' collection (chapter 35, Introduction).
Summary: After having been away for years, Sam and Tucker return to Amity Park and their friend, determined to pick up where they left off, to renew their friendship and kick some serious ghost butt. Starting their own ghost hunting agency seems like the logical thing to do, and their first client is an old acquaintance. This is story about friendship and working together. About building your life and finding purpose. And it is a story about ghosts.
Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.
(Oh. I've had to clarify this before. Obviously, they're all over 21)
SPECTER DETECTORS LTD
Prologue
They were sitting on top of the ops center like they used to, quietly watching the sun set in the warm summer breeze. The town seemed peaceful from up there, not infested with crooks, criminals or ghosts. A police siren in the distance told them otherwise, but here, on the roof, it seemed like the streets and alleys down on the ground belonged to a different world. Up on the roof, the world seemed friendlier, without heartbreak or misunderstandings or hunters out for your blood, ghostly or otherwise. Up on the roof, time seemed to have stopped, and they could just be together in a comfortable silence they couldn't find anywhere else.
Of course they were never silent for long.
"So," Danny said, sitting cross legged on the metal plates that made up the roof and leaning forward to grab his glass of wine, "You're here to stay."
Sam nodded, sipping her glass while eying her best friend's lean figure, hardly hidden beneath the wide t-shirt he wore. The years of fighting had left their mark, and the goofy and clumsy teenager had grown into a confident young man with watchful eyes and quick reflexes. Aided by the wine, Sam found herself attracted to him once more, a feeling she had thought to be purged out of her system by leaving Amity Park four years ago.
She tore her eyes away from him, aware of the fact that Tucker was watching her with amused eyes, as well as the fact that Danny was completely oblivious to her as he was gloomily staring out over the town. She eyed the the half empty bottle that was standing next to him instead, shifting a little to make herself comfortable once more. The position she was in – laying on her side, leaning on her left elbow – used to be comfortable when she was a teenager, but was now quickly becoming more and more painful.
"Hey man," Tucker said, sitting with his back against the structure, and obviously not quite catching on on the mood Danny was in. "Can't let you have all the fun by yourself, you know. Only ghost hunting during breaks just doesn't cut it."
He swallowed the remainder of the wine in his glass in one large gulp, and reached for the bottle.
"You?" he asked Danny, holding the bottle close to Danny's glass, but he shook his head.
"Your loss," Tucker said, serving himself and then Sam, who held her glass close to his.
She nodded her head in the direction of Danny's glass.
"You've hardly touched yours," she said, "We're celebrating. Come on, Danny, I nicked this from my parents' wine cellar especially for this occasion."
"Alcohol and ghost fighting don't go together," Danny said tensely, remembering the one time he had drunk too much, "I don't think you'd want me starting to obliterate random things just for the heck of it."
Tucker grinned. "Do I hear experience here?"
Danny looked away. Sure, he was happy his friends were back, after having been away for years, going to New York (Sam) and UCLA (Tucker). They couldn't have been further apart, with him stuck in Amity Park Community College. But he felt a pang of resentment at them, for having managed to get away from the stress and the danger, even though their parents practically forced them to go. Hell, he himself had told them to go, he'd take care of business, he'd be perfectly alright on his own.
And he had been, sort of. After all, he was still alive. But the price had been high.
Tucker took his silence as a yes, and grinned some more, but Sam frowned, always having been more sensitive to Danny's moods than Tucker was.
"So," she said, "How's the job going? At the amusement park?"
Danny shrugged. "OK, I guess. I still have it."
Tucker blinked. "I thought you were working in that car parts store near Caspar High?"
"That was last month. Got fired. Again."
"Oh." Tucker averted his eyes, finally catching on to the fact that Danny was in a foul mood.
They drank in silence for a while, Tucker and Sam refilling their glasses, Danny only taking small sips from his. The sky turned orange, the buildings black, and Venus made it's appearance in the quickly darkening sky. On the other side of the building, the bright neon sign reading 'Fenton Works' flickered to life.
"You should start your own business," Sam said, "That way you don't have a boss to fire you when you run off to fight a ghost again."
"Yeah, right," Danny answered irritably, "Because you know, I have so many talents. I'm extremely good at star gazing, sleeping late, running off in the middle of something, and oh yes, I have a mean punch. People start business because they're good at something, doing something other people want. I'm not good at anything."
Tucker sat up, pushing himself away from the structure and leaning forward. "Yes you are," he said, his words now slightly slurring, "You're good at ghost hunting."
"Yes!" Sam got excited, "That's it! You should start your own ghost hunting agency!"
"I already do that for free..."
"Well, you shouldn't. Let people pay for it if they want their house rid of some ghost that's haunting it. There must be a lot of those around here. We only see the violent ones."
Danny looked at her. Her cheek were flushed, her eyes were sparkling as she was gesturing to emphasize her point. She spilled some wine over her hand and frowned slightly, before licking it off. Slightly distracted, he followed her movement until she looked up and blushed.
"And we'll be in it too," Tucker said, "I work in shifts at CompuStore, I can totally hunt ghosts in my free time and help you out. We'll be... the Ghost Getters!"
Sam moaned. "That is so lame. That's the name Jazz thought up when Danny was away on that fishing trip."
She took another sip from her glass, now obviously slightly drunk, and started laughing. "How about... Phantom Fighters!"
Danny shook his head, amused. "Too obvious. I'm supposed to keep my identity a secret, Sam. How about just Fenton Works II?"
"Fenton works too?" Tucker snickered.
Sam and Tucker's laughter was infectious, and a small smile tugged at Danny's lips. Sam got up, swaying a little, and raised her finger.
"I know," she said, and then frowned, "No, I forgot."
She sat down again with a thud. Tucker was in hysterics.
"S-s-s...," he spluttered, taking several attempt to get it out, "S-Spook Spotters!"
Danny stared at Sam. She was giggling. Sam never giggled. It was not goth-like. She furrowed her brow in a comical concentration.
"Apparition Apprehenders," she got out, and Tucker started applauding her accomplishing this feat without stuttering.
Danny shook his head, now grinning widely. Trust his friends to make him feel better. An idea struck him, and he raised his glass.
"Specter Detectors," he said, eyes flashing green for a moment.
His friends quieted down and looked at him. Then Sam raised her glass too, and nodded. Tucker solemnly joined in, and they toasted.
"Specter Detectors it is," Tucker said, "You'll fly me home tonight, right, Danny? I don't think I'm up for driving right now."
SPECTER DETECTORS
Episode 1: The Broken Mirror
(one year and five months later)
"Twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five..."
Mumbling softly to herself, Sam Manson was counting the stack of bills on the desk in the corner of the small room, sitting on the swivel chair that didn't swivel and leaning dangerously back against the back of the chair. She frowned slightly when she caught sight of a particularly large bill, but for the most of them, they were minor. Heating. Electricity. Ghost Hunter's Weekly. She raised her eyebrows at that last one. Did they even get that magazine?
Frowning, she put it aside for later inspection, making a mental note to ask Danny about it. She didn't put it above him to subscribe to something like that, but more likely was that his father had had something to do with it. Money was tight.
A loud curse from the other side of the room diverted her attention from the annoying stack of papers, and she looked up to see Tucker crawl out from under the other desk in the room, sucking his thumb. On top of the desk there were two laptop computers and one desktop computer with it's case lifted off, showing the myriad of wires on the inside.
"Did you hurt yourself?" Sam asked, without moving.
Tucker grumbled something inaudible and inspected his thumb. Sam squinted and was able to make out a tiny red spot on it.
"What are you doing anyway?" she asked him.
Tucker gestured at the desk that was supposed to be against the wall, but now stood in the middle of the room, making it hard to get past it to the door. The three computers on it were shoved together awkwardly, leaving no space for anything else save for some screwdrivers.
"I was trying to fasten that cable holder against the back of the desk," he said, "Or we'll be tripping over the wires in here. Hit my thumb with the stupid screwdriver."
He sat down on the wooden chair that Danny had confiscated from a pile of furniture to be picked up by the garbage removal. It was old and had almost no paint left on it, but it was still functional. He pressed the button on the desktop computer with the case still off, and it whirred to life.
"At least we're connected," he said.
Sam rolled her eyes, pulled a large cardboard box closer to her and placed her feet on it, throwing a short glance at the Fenton Finder that was sitting on the desk next to her, turned on and plugged into the socket on the wall to recharge it. It was old too, and the battery lasted only about two hours nowadays, but this was the only device that could alert them to the presence of the Box Ghost if Danny wasn't around.
"What's keeping him?" Tucker asked, "He's letting us do all the work while he sits around in the Nasty Burger, chatting up Paulina?"
To his satisfaction, he saw a flash of anger cross Sam's face, to be immediately replaced by a blank, noncommittal one. She shrugged and was about to answer that he was probably in a ghost fight, when the door downstairs opened. Tucker got up in a hurry, his mouth open to shout a warning, when a loud crash and a stream of curses told them Danny had found the empty boxes that were stacked in the narrow hallway downstairs.
"There he is," Tucker said.
Footsteps on the stairs, a loud voice commenting on fire regulations, Box Ghosts and moving in general, and then Danny burst through the door, holding yet another cardboard box. He stopped at the entrance, looked around the small room that was slowly turned into an office and then carefully placed it on top of another box standing close to the door, containing, according to the large letters on the side, 'Books And Stuff'.
"Coffee maker," he declared, "Can't live without it."
"Where'd you get it, some yard sale?" Tucker asked, looking at the dusty brown device.
Danny looked at him indignantly. "And what if I did?"
Tucker shook his head, grinning. "Nothing, man, nothing."
Danny looked around the room again, taking in the mess on the two desks, the boxes piled high against the wall, the partially dismantled computer and finally rested his eyes on Sam, who was still sitting on the chair with her feet on the box. For a moment, his eyes wandered to her legs with the fish net stockings, and he blushed. Tucker shook his head. Nine years, and still clueless. College had brought him neither a degree nor common sense and certainly no guts. In the girl department, that was. Tucker would never question Danny's courage when it came to ghost fighting.
"Where have you been?" Sam asked, "Other than scorching yard sales for a coffee maker?"
Something was up, she saw, because Danny started rubbing the back of his neck. She hoped he hadn't really been chatting up Paulina at the Nasty Burger. Not that the woman would have paid any attention to him, other than the professional politeness that was required of her. Then she smiled, thinking about the irony of the fact that Paulina was now flipping burgers. Justice, after all this time.
"Well, you know," Danny said in the meantime, "I, um, went to Fenton Works. To, um, oversee the loading of the moving trucks. Yeah."
"Are they finished already?" Tucker asked, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Danny was acting more nervous than usual, "Did your parents power down the ghost portal? Have you figured out what to do with the ghosts we're gonna capture when business goes booming?"
"Right," Sam muttered, glancing at the bills.
Danny flinched. "Yes they did. And then they dismantled it, and I wanted to see that. Because we're going to have to put it back together again," he said, frowning a little as he thought about the complicated procedure, "I took pictures. And between us I think we'll be able to figure it out."
"Wait a minute," Tucker said, looking at him wide eyed, "They let you have the ghost portal?"
Danny looked at the floor. "Um," he said, "It seems that the truck that was carrying it got waylaid. Sort of. And they delivered it to the wrong address. In fact," he walked to the window, "It's sitting on the side walk in front of the door, I was hoping you guys could give me a hand and get all the stuff into the basement."
Tucker and Sam stared at him, and then they both jumped up and rushed to the window. A pile of boxes, strange metal objects and the two steel doors that were supposed to close the portal were indeed standing on the sidewalk right in front of the door, already attracting a small crowd of children, who were starting to poke at the strange equipment. Danny opened a window and leaned out.
"Hey!" he shouted.
The children ran off in all directions, but stopped about thirty feet away and turned around, ready to get closer again when the owner went back inside.
"Come on," Danny said hurriedly, "Before they rob us blind."
He rushed down the stairs, effectively preventing his friends from asking any more questions. Taking out an old, rusty key chain that was hanging next to the door downstairs, he opened another door that led them into the garage on the first floor, directly underneath his small 'office'. It was filled with two old cars and lots and lots of spare parts, tires, tools and otherwise unidentified equipment. Sam looked around curiously, knowing that this space wasn't included in the rent.
"What are you doing?" she asked, "We're not supposed to be in here, are we? Where's that basement?"
Danny opened the garage door and turned to grin at her. "I happened upon it by accident. Come on, let's get this stuff inside, and I'll phase it through the floor."
They started hauling everything inside the already cramped garage, shooing away the curious children and a few grown ups with more time on their hands than was good for them. It was a tight fit, but they managed, and when Danny closed the garage door again both Sam and Tucker were standing with their backs against the wall, unable to move.
Danny smiled brightly and with a flash transformed into Danny Phantom, now no longer ghost boy, but more a ghost man. It had baffled the media and his parents when they discovered that the Phantom aged normally, like any other kid, growing a few inches every year, and otherwise filling out nicely. Danny had worried about that for a while, fearing that they would see the similarities between him and his alter ego. But they never did, and he hid his lean figure under wide t-shirts and baggy pants. Fortunately, he looked nothing like his evil self from another time line.
Quickly, he turned himself intangible and floated through the boxes to Sam and Tucker, grabbed a hold of them and phased them through the floor. They landed in the dark cellar, and after letting his friends go, he lit a small green ecto ball to light up the place.
It wasn't so much a basement, but more like the open space in the foundation of the house, damp, moldy and dirty. The floor consisted of bare concrete, covered with sand and mouse droppings. At least, Sam hoped they were mouse droppings. Pipes ran along the ceiling at one point, probably the water supply and the drainage.
"Oookaaay," Sam said, "You know this isn't really a basement, do you?"
Danny shrugged. "It was the best I could come up with. And it's safe. There's no entrance other than the hatch right inside my front door. Like I said, I discovered this by accident. It's underneath the doormat." He looked around. "OK, so we'll have to clean the place up a little. But it's perfect, look!"
He pointed at the power lines. "We can tap electricity off here to power the portal, once we've figured out how to put it back together again."
"Yes, about that," Tucker interrupted him, "Are you going to tell us how you managed to get a hold of it?"
Danny sighed. "I, um, borrowed it?" he said, again rubbing the back of his neck, knowing his friends wouldn't approve of his euphemism.
"You borrowed it," Sam said neutrally, "And your parents, like, won't notice it's gone at all?"
Danny shook his head. "They're not going to use it. They were just going to store it with the rest of the stuff they didn't need. They won't notice. And I really need it, Sam."
"You stole it," she said.
Danny felt the sudden need to take a deep breath, even though in his ghost form, he didn't really have to.
"I stole it," he admitted, "And for good measure, I also took some ecto guns, you know, the ones that go on your wrist like a watch."
"Anything more?" Tucker asked.
Danny looked at the ground. "Maybe a bazooka. Or two. And the thermoses. And..."
"So basically, you took the whole lab and the contents of the weapons vault," Tucker continued, his face still expressionless.
"Um...yeah."
"Cool!" Tucker was grinning now. "How'd you pull that off?"
Danny grinned back at him, obviously relieved his friend seemed to take it well. "I overshadowed the driver. It was a bit hard in the beginning, because I've never driven a truck like this before, but I managed."
"Danny," Sam said quietly.
He looked at her, his green eyes blinking, trying to somehow plea with her to understand. He had known she would disapprove. He just hoped she would see things his way.
"I can't believe you stole all that stuff. It's not right, Danny. There must have been some other solution."
The expression on his face shifted, and suddenly he no longer looked benign, goofy, but dangerous and serious, having a stern look in his eyes.
"I need this stuff. They were going to store it. They are going to work for the GIW, probably making weapons that are going to destroy me, tear me apart molecule by molecule. And now that they have proper funding, chances are that they are going to succeed. I have enough on my plate as it is, don't you dare try and lay a guilt trip on me."
He shot up through the ceiling, leaving the ecto ball with them, to return moments later with two intangible boxes. A dozen more trips brought the rest down, filling the entire front end of the basement from dirty floor to low ceiling. None of them had to actually bend down to be able to move around, but Tucker, the tallest of the three, every now and then felt his hair brush against the concrete that made up the ceiling.
When Danny had finished bringing everything down they stood quietly for a while, taking in the quantity of the equipment, getting a little discouraged by the enormity of the task of cleaning the basement, adjusting it to their needs and shifting through the boxes to find the right parts for the portal. And then bring it to life without electrocuting themselves.
Sam shuddered suddenly, remembering that fateful day ten years ago, when she had thought her friend had died. And he had, in a way. She glanced at him sideways, but he didn't look at her, staring at the ground instead. Tucker seemed to sense their discomfort with each other.
"Let's get upstairs," he said, "Finish unpacking."
It was late in the afternoon when they had finally finished unpacking everything, storing everything in what was now officially the office of their small endeavor. Tucker had drilled holes in the wall to put up some shelves, and the walls were quickly covered entirely with books. Mostly about ghosts, although there were some about star systems and space exploration as well. Even though Danny had given up his dreams about being an astronaut years ago, he still held on to the things in his past when life had been less complicated.
They had worked in silence, Danny and Sam mostly ignoring each other, and Tucker wrapped up in his own thoughts. Finally, he pushed the desk back against the wall and put the old, wooden chair in front of it. The desktop computer was put back together, and it was turned on, showing a swirling screen saver. Tucker mentally made a note of this, he'd have to replace the screen saver with something more fitting. Pictures of ghosts, or maybe he could design something himself, some animated ghost figures floating through the screen.
"I'm beat," Danny said, letting himself slide to the floor, his back against the door, leaving the swivel chair at the other desk for Sam.
She frowned at this courtesy, but seeing no reason to protest, other than to just make a point, she sat down on it. The years had not diminished her beliefs or her vigor, but she had mellowed a bit, acquiring something that looked like diplomacy. She no longer felt the need to fight prejudice and male chauvinism every step of the way, but recognized that sometimes Danny and Tucker did things for her just because they liked her for herself, not because she was a woman. And suddenly she felt guilty.
"I'm sorry, Danny," she said, looking him in the eyes, "I shouldn't have attacked you. I know you're under a lot of pressure."
"Yeah, well," he said, wiping his hair out of his face, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you for being right. It's just that I really didn't see any other way. I absolutely have to have a portal, to get rid of the ghosts we capture. The thermoses have their limits, and besides, I don't like to leave them in there for too long. It's really cramped in there."
Tucker shuddered when thinking about the small devices, trying to imagine what it was like to be pressured inside.
"What's it like?" he asked.
Danny stared at him. "Unpleasant," he said, "And even more unpleasant when there's more than one ghost in there."
"What happens then?" Tucker asked, curious, never having wondered about that before, "Can you move in there? Or are you just snuggled together, pressed against each other? Have you ever filled it to the max?"
"Can we move to another subject?" Danny asked, irritably, "Just try not to suck me in, alright? How about we order some pizza?"
Sam looked at her watch and shook her head.
"Count me out," she said, "I'm supposed to have dinner with my parents." She made a face. "If I can survive that, I can survive anything. I'll be back later this evening, and we'll start on the basement, alright? Will you be here?"
"I'm always here," Danny said, "I live here."
Sam paused putting on her coat and looked at him in surprise.
"You live here? Where? I thought you said you were going to rent an apartment?"
Danny shook his head. "Too expensive. Besides, this way I can keep an eye on the portal when it's operational. And I can sleep really late and still be in time for work."
"Where did you put your stuff?" Tucker asked, looking around the small office.
"In the back room."
"Back room?"
"Back room. As in, room in the back. Come on, I'll show you," Danny said, getting up and opening the door that led to the hallway. To his left, the stairway that led downstairs, and another stairway going up, leading to more rooms upstairs. At the end of the hallway was a window with a view on a brick wall, a small counter with a sink and Danny's new coffee machine. And another door.
Danny opened it and showed them into a small room, containing his bed and a small wardrobe. Another door led to a small bathroom. The three of them filled the room completely, and Danny had to sit down on the bed to let them all in.
"You mean the back closet," Tucker commented.
Danny shrugged. "Can't be helped," he said, "I'll rent something bigger when business is booming. It's not so bad."
Sam was silent. They all knew she had offered to pay for the whole startup of the business, but Danny had flatly refused that, only going as far as having her lend their small company enough money to pay the rent for the first couple of months of a small office in a shabby neighborhood. She wasn't about to go suggesting she pay for a decent apartment for him, knowing he would get angry at that. Instead, she started buttoning up her coat.
"I have to go," she said, "See you later, guys."
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
They all froze, staring at each other, and then, in a burst of energy, they rushed through the door. Danny grabbed a hold of Sam and Tucker at the top of the stairs, pushing them into his office, ordering them to act 'professionally' and then thundered down the stairs to open the door, mentally making a note of the fact that he needed to install a system to open the door from above.
He tripped on the doormat and stumbled against the door with a loud thunk, before finally opening it and staring into a familiar face.
"Mr.. Mr Lancer," he said, "What are you doing here?"
The overweight teacher looked back at him and raised his eyebrows.
"Mr. Fenton," he said politely, "I am here to, how shall I say it, acquire your services."
He pointed at the newspaper tucked under his arm, folded in such a way that it showed the advertisement in it, announcing that Specter Detectors Ltd. was now open for business.
"Wow," Danny said, rubbing his head where he had hit the door and trying to recover from his surprise, "I mean, come in, into my office, um, upstairs. Sorry for the mess, we just moved in here."
Mr. Lancer carefully stepped over the remnants of wrapping paper scattered across the hallway and the folded boxes that had fallen over, which had been standing at the door to be put outside the next morning for the garbage disposal. He followed Danny up the stairs and into his office, to find Sam and Tucker there, Sam standing at the window and Tucker seated at the computer. They both turned their heads to see who entered.
"Mr. Lancer!" they both exclaimed at the same time.
"Ms Manson and Mr Foley. I should have known," Mr Lancer said, looking around the small office.
His eyes scanned the books on the walls, the huge Dracula poster on the door, courtesy of Sam, and finally rested on Danny, standing in the middle of the room, looking at him expectantly. They all seemed at loss about what to say.
"Um, right," Danny said suddenly, "Would you like to sit down? Can I get you something... no wait, I don't have anything yet, still have to go shopping... Is this a courtesy visit, or is there something we can do for you?"
Mr Lancer let the stream of words float over him and smiled slightly at his former student. Despite the obvious physical changes and the slight impression of maturity, he could still see the awkward boy shining through, making up lame excuses for his tardiness or lack of attention. He sat down carefully on the swivel chair, and Danny sat down on the corner of the desk Tucker was sitting at. Sam leaned over to him, whispered something into his ear and then turned to Mr Lancer.
"I'm sorry Mr Lancer," she said, "I have to go. Maybe we'll meet again some other time. Goodbye."
Unbidden, Mr Lancers eyes drifted to her hands, but he saw no ring there. She walked to the door, Danny staring after her, and Mr Lancer looked questionably at Tucker, who rolled his eyes. He cleared his throat, and Danny's attention snapped back to him.
"It is both," Mr Lancer said, answering Danny's last question, "Actually, it's a coincidence. We've had some... disturbances at the school, and I saw your ad today. Still, I wouldn't have been here if the latest disturbance hadn't involved principal Inshiyama."
"What do you mean by disturbances?" Danny asked, "Aren't the GIW supposed to take care of public spaces and buildings?"
The GIW had taken up permanent residence in Amity Park, and their conspicuous presence was now everywhere. They drove around in white vans, looking menacing, and everybody, ghost, half ghost, or otherwise completely human, stayed out of their way. Their blatant incompetence was only compensated by their number. It took a whole platoon to take out the Box Ghost, with a smirking Danny watching from a rooftop. They were getting better though.
"Yes," Mr Lancer said, "They searched the school, and declared it free of ghosts. But the incidents didn't stop. Do you remember the legend of locker 724?"
Danny shuddered, remembering all too well. For a while, he had thought he would be trapped in the ghost zone high school forever, tormented by Pointdexter's classmates.
"Yes," he said, "But I smashed the mirror... I mean, I heard that that was resolved years ago."
Mr Lancer stared at him, and Danny started fidgeting.
"Look, could you tell me what happened?" he asked, trying to get Mr Lancer's attention away from his little slip-up.
"Originally, it was just an urban legend," Mr Lancer began, "Locker 724 being haunted. I remember it was said to be haunted even when I was in high school."
"You went to Caspar High?" Tucker interrupted, trying, but failing, to picture a teenaged Mr Lancer.
Mr Lancer frowned at him, but continued as if he hadn't spoken.
"It was a hoax," he said, "A story to scare the freshmen with. There has never been a Pointdexter at the school. But the story lived on, and nothing ever happened until a few weeks ago."
"And ten years ago," Danny mumbled.
"What was that?"
Danny waved his hand. "Nothing. Go on?"
Mr Lancer shrugged. "It was nothing serious at first. Missing assignments. The hallway, suddenly flooded from the drinking fountain. People tripping for no reason. It would have gone unnoticed, if it hadn't been for the fact that students heard a, and I quote, 'hollow laughter' when it happened."
Danny leaned forward. "Who were affected? Was it just anybody, or could the victims be described as... bullies?"
Mr Lancer was silent for a moment.
"We do have a problem in that area," he finally admitted, "Yes, I suppose you could say the victims were prone to tease other students. But today..."
He paused, looking intently at Danny's serious face, as if trying to gauge whether he could trust him.
"Today," he continued, "Our star football player attacked Mrs Inshiyama. And last week, a boy got injured because he suddenly started slamming his head into the lockers. The GIW can't help us, and I saw your ad. Your parents..."
He stopped when he saw Danny wince at the mentioning of his parents, and wondered what had happened. Surely he outgrew the feeling of embarrassment he had felt as a teenager?
Danny waved his hand dismissively. "My parents have moved out of town. I'm the only one left. What happened to the football player and Mrs Inshiyama?"
Mr Lancer got up and walked to the window. It was darkening quickly outside, and the overcast sky made it even darker. He frowned at the shabby street downstairs, thinking that he would be walking alone in this neighborhood. Danny moved next to him, and seemed to know what he was thinking.
"We'll leave together, and you can fill me in on today's incident," he said, "We can do a preliminary investigation of the premises, the school in this case, for a standard price, and then we'll be able to tell you what it would cost to get rid of the... disturbances. We can do that tonight if you want."
He rummaged through the papers on the desk, retrieved the price list they had set up only the day before and gave it to Mr Lancer, who studied it.
Danny smiled. "We also offer a guarantee period of two years, meaning that if the ghost comes back during that time, we'll get rid of it again, for free."
Mr Lancer carefully folded the price list and nodded. Danny turned to Tucker. "You coming?"
"Sure am," Tucker grinned, "But could we stop by the Nasty Burger on the way? I'm kinda hungry."
Tucker parked his car in the now empty parking lot in front of the school, and got out, still munching on his burger. Mr Lancer got out from the passenger side and Danny climbed out of the back seat. The three of them looked at the dark school for a moment, and then Tucker quickly walked to the back of the car to get their equipment out of the trunk. Most of it was for show, as the best equipment they had was standing next to Mr Lancer, regarding the school. The small wrist ecto blaster, however, was entirely useful.
Mr Lancer opened the door and let them in, the tingling of his keys echoing through the empty hallways. The three of them stepped inside, and Danny and Tucker looked around in their former school for the first time in over six years. For a moment, Danny was struck with a strange feeling of nostalgia. Life had been simpler then, less stressful. He didn't have to worry about unpaid bills back then, or when, not if, he would be fired from his umpteenth job, or if their new business would be successful.
"Did you bring the Fenton Finder?" he asked Tucker, more out of need to say something to break the silence than an actual desire to find out.
"Yup," Tucker said, fishing the thing out of his backpack and turning it on. It gave off a soft hum and the display lit up. He shook his head. "Doesn't pick up anything."
Danny shook his head. He already knew that, but they had to go through the motions for Mr Lancer's sake. He started walking through the hallway into the direction of locker 724, followed by Tucker and Mr Lancer, the latter looking curiously at Tucker's assorted equipment sticking out of his backpack.
The locker looked just the way he remembered it, somehow older and more worn than the ones around it, the paint peeling off and slightly dented. And yet, this was what should be causing the trouble, the latest of which being a football player who had, apparently in a fit of rage, sprayed the principal, Mrs Inshiyama with a fire extinguisher. But students had testified later that he didn't seem to be himself, and that his eyes had been glowing red. A clear sign of overshadowing.
"Nobody is using it," Mr Lancer volunteered.
He stepped forward, quickly turned the knob for the combination and opened it. It was completely empty. The hook on which the mirror had hung ten years before was still there, and an oval shaped discoloring of the back of the locker indicated it's size. Danny put his hand against it and pushed, closing his eyes in concentration.
He felt... almost nothing. Just a remnant, a whisper of a presence, probably a long time ago. This wasn't the portal. And he was convinced that what they needed to find was the portal through which Pointdexter managed to make it into the school. Feeling Mr Lancer's eyes on him, he quickly withdrew his hand, muttering something inaudible. Then he took the Fenton Finder from Tucker's hands and looked at it, as if studying it.
"Something was here," he said finally, "But it's gone now. This isn't the portal. We need to search the school."
He glanced around and walked away from Tucker and Mr Lancer, holding the ghost finding device in his hands, but not looking at it. Slowly, he walked along the lockers, letting his hand slide on the doors, trying to feel something, anything. An idea struck him and he walked to the restrooms and after that the locker rooms, anywhere where there was a mirror. None of them, however, gave off the slightest tingling, in fact, the only time he felt something when he was walking around the school, closely followed by Tucker and Mr Lancer, was when he touched the back of locker 724.
"That can't be it," he muttered.
He stood in front of the locker, staring at it, willing it to give up it's secret, oblivious to the now extremely curious Mr Lancer and the increasingly nervous Tucker. He pondered his options for a moment, and then turned to Mr Lancer.
"This is going to take days," he said, looking apologetically, "I'll have to stake out the ghost, wait for it to come out. With some luck, I'll be able to find where it's coming from, and then we'll be able to close the portal."
Mr Lancer nodded. "You have a week," he said, "Please try not to scare the students by walking around with those devices. We don't need a panic, we're in enough trouble as it is, with Lance Gardner attacking the principal."
Danny grinned. "Don't worry. They won't even know I'm there."
He turned to Tucker.
"What's your schedule tomorrow?"
Tucker took out his inevitable PDA and looked, although he knew his schedule perfectly well.
"I don't start until two," he said, "You want me to interview the students who were attacked?"
Danny nodded, and then glanced sideways to Mr Lancer. "Try to find out if the bullying has increased of late," he said, "There must be some explanation for all of this. Pointdexter doesn't just attack for no reason."
They said their goodbyes to Mr Lancer and left him to lock up. Mr Lancer watched them leave, wondering whether they were going to succeed where the GIW had failed. Somewhere in the past years, Daniel Fenton, the clumsy schoolboy from long ago, had changed into a confident young man. But only when he was hunting ghosts. What had struck Mr Lancer as extremely odd was that Danny had hardly used the device he had been holding, instead examining everything with his hands. He wondered if the man was psychic. That could explain his strange behavior during the years he was in Caspar High.
Tucker sighed and rubbed his eyes, pushing his glasses up. His laptop was standing in front of him, full of notes taken from the interviews he had held with fourteen students who had seen or experienced something.
There was Trish Olson, a cheer leader, whose behavior reminded Tucker a little bit too much of Paulina. She had walked down the hallway, 'minding her own business', when suddenly, out of nowhere, a whole bucket of black ink had splashed on her. She had been angry and had practically shouted at Tucker in her frustration. She then grudgingly admitted teasing a classmate who was 'fat and ugly'.
He had then spoken to aforementioned classmate, Patricia Dubois, a shy, slightly overweight blond girl with thick glasses, who hardly looked at him. But she smiled a little when Tucker began asking her about the incident with the ink. She confirmed that Trish, and in fact, the whole cheer leading squad, were pretty relentless in their bullying of her and some other girls, from simple things like knocking her books from her hands to more elaborate torments like hiding her clothes when she was in the shower in the locker room. Tucker got the impression school was a living hell for Patricia and a lot of others he interviewed after her, and had started to sympathize with Pointdexter. Until he heard Jay Fletcher's story.
The junior sauntered into the empty classroom Tucker was sitting, managing to look both bored and a little apprehensive.
"Mr Foley?" he asked, hovering at the door, seemingly ready to bolt the moment Tucker told him it had been a mistake he had been called in there.
"Jay Fletcher, right?" Tucker asked, gesturing at the chair on the other side of the desk, secretly enjoying his brief position of power in the school.
The boy looked like an athlete, standing almost as tall as Tucker himself, and at first he thought he would hear the story of a bully that got pranked by Pointdexter. But then he noticed the boy's too long brown hair, the silver hoop in his left ear, and a pair of combat boots Sam would have loved to see on Danny. He definitely didn't look like the crowd that usually hung out with the jocks and the cheerleaders. Nor did he look like someone who could be bullied by anybody.
The boy hesitantly sat down, nervously fingering the buckle of his backpack, glancing at the clock hanging above the door. "Look," he said, "I don't have time for this, I need to finish my English homework... I'm in enough trouble as it is."
Tucker waved his hand. "We'll keep it short," he said, "Just tell me what happened and you're out of here."
Jay sighed resignedly. "OK, alright. I wasn't doing anything, though. I know it's the bullies that were being attacked, and now everybody thinks I'm one too, but I didn't do anything. I just... happened to be there. That always happens to me."
The boy was practically squirming in his seat, looking at Tucker with pleading eyes, trying to force him to believe him. Tucker shrugged.
"Just talk," he said, "I'm not here to find bullies. I'm here to catch a ghost."
Jay sighed again. He did that a lot, Tucker noticed.
"My locker is at the end of the hallway where Pointdexter's locker is, so I pass by there a lot. And then Ricky Tanenbaum, who's locker is close to mine, opened his locker and he was glued to it, so he couldn't get loose. And I... I laughed, 'cuz it was funny, you know, but I didn't do it. And I shouldn't have laughed, I know what it's like to be bullied... but I couldn't help myself."
"You are bullied?" Tucker asked, incredibly.
Jay smiled suddenly. "Not anymore. I grew tall. I don't fit into a locker anymore."
"So, what happened next?" Tucker asked.
"I.. I don't know. Next thing I know I'm on my back, on the floor. They say I suddenly started banging my head against the lockers and running around like crazy, but... but I don't remember that. I needed ten stitches."
He lifted his hair and Tucker saw an angry red scar just below the hairline, and the remnants of some nasty bruises, now turning a yellowish green. He was just about to comment on it when he felt the temperature in the classroom drop significantly. Quickly, he asked the boy if he could remember anything of use, but Jay shook his head and Tucker dismissed him.
Jay practically ran through the door and the hallway, but stopped when he remembered his backpack. Cursing softly, he turned around and headed back, berating himself for always putting off his homework to the last possible moment. He was going to be in so much trouble.
He burst into the classroom and came to a complete standstill when he saw that Mr Foley was no longer alone. A man with messy black hair, faded jeans and an old dark blue sweater was standing behind Mr Foley, leaning over him and reading something that was on the screen of the laptop computer. He looked up in surprise.
Jay blinked. "How...," he started, and then decided that he didn't have time for this and didn't want to know either. "Never mind. Forgot my backpack. Bye."
Danny stared after the boy, then shrugged and turned his attention back to Tucker's notes, trying to read them as as Tucker scrolled through them, looking for something.
"You know, you really have to be more careful," Tucker said to him.
"Yeah, I know. I'm not used to this, you know. Normally, I'm either Danny Phantom, ghost hunter, or Danny Fenton...um... general nobody. But now I have to be Danny Fenton, ghost hunter. It's kinda hard to integrate those two roles. I feel like I have to become somebody completely new."
Tucker laughed. "You should hear yourself. You're really messed up, you know. I guess we're all messed up, thinking of Phantom as 'normal'."
Then he got serious. "I think you should talk to Jazz. She can help you."
Danny scowled at him. "I've had enough psycho-analyzing from her to last me a lifetime. No thanks."
Tucker shrugged, and turned back to his notes.
"Suit yourself, then. I've talked to fourteen students, both bullies who were victims of Pointdexter and the students who were being bullied, but they really can't tell me anything. The only thing I can make from their stories is that the bullying and the incidents all took place close to locker 724. And all within minutes of each other. I mean, somebody got bullied, and minutes later, he or she got it back at them."
He was silent for a moment.
"You know, I thought it was pretty funny at first. I mean, I can see why you wouldn't want a ghost in the school, but those bullies really had it coming."
Danny rubbed the back of his neck, smiling ruefully. "Yeah, me too. But you changed your mind?"
Tucker nodded. "It's getting out of hand. That last student I talked to, the one that came bursting in here and almost busted you, he got injured. He needed ten stitches. And the football player who attacked the principal, he only managed to spray her with foam, but they say they had a tough time restraining him, or he might have hit her with the fire extinguisher as well. He's in the hospital with a concussion, because they had to knock him down."
Danny frowned. "Pointdexter was never this violent... I wonder if it's really him."
He sat down on a desk and rubbed his eyes.
"Ghost fight last night? You should have called me..." Tucker said.
"Nah," Danny answered, yawning, "Me and Sam cleaned up part of the basement after you left. It needs a little bit more work than I thought, so I'll get back at it after we finish here. There's no point in staying here if there are no students around."
He frowned. "I wonder if we can hurry this up a little, stage a fight or something, draw him out."
Tucker shook his head. "Lancer will never agree to putting students in danger," he said and then glanced at his watch. "I have to go, or I'll be late. I'll email the notes of the interviews to you tonight."
Danny nodded. "I'll hang around here some more, but the students seem to be pretty subdued because of this whole thing. I doubt I'll be able to see something, but you never know. What was the name of that last student you were talking to?"
Tucker looked at his notes. "Jay Fletcher. Why?"
"I think I'll have a little chat with him," Danny said, transforming into his ghostly self.
Tucker blinked as he disappeared from sight, then shrugged and quickly stuffed his laptop into his bag. If he hurried, he could get a bite at the cafeteria before heading to work.
"Did you do this on purpose?"
Sam and Danny were sitting on the floor at the far end of the basement, looking at the freshly painted concrete floor. The only two places that hadn't been painted white were the spot they were sitting and the area where all the boxes and equipment that came from the lab of Danny's parents were stored.
Danny grinned. "Not really. But it doesn't matter."
He let the two white rings transform him into Danny Phantom, held out his hand and drew her close, with the intention of lifting her up and flying her back to the entrance of the basement. Of course, Tucker chose that exact moment to stick his head through the hatch to see what they were doing.
"Hah!" he shouted, "Finally!"
Danny and Sam both sent him their death glare, and he quickly retreated, waiting for them to appear in the hallway.
"Admit it, Danny," he said, when his friend turned back to his human self, "You did that on purpose, just so you could fly her out of there."
To Tucker's pleasure he saw he could still make his friends blush. Sam pushed him into the direction of the stairs, avoiding the handlebar of Danny's bicycle with some difficulty.
"Weren't you the one who was complaining about fire regulations and putting things in the way in your hallway?" she asked.
"Yeah, well, I need it, and if I put it outside it gets stolen," he answered, and then proceeded to walk right through it, "It's not in the way. But then, nothing is."
Grinning, he followed his friends upstairs where they made themselves comfortable, Danny on the floor with his back against the door, Sam seated in the swivel chair and Tucker on the wooden chair near the computer. He bend forward and flipped it on, out of habit.
"So," Tucker said to Sam, "What did you find out?"
She shrugged and looked at the darkness outside for a moment.
"Not much. There really was no Pointdexter in the school, I looked through all the records, and I went to the library to look at old newspapers. If something happened, you would say they would have reported about it, but there's really nothing there. Then I did a search on the internet, but I only got references to the 'legend of Pointdexter', here at the school. I think that's really all it is, a legend, a story made up by students to scare other students."
Danny shook his head. "But we know Pointdexter is real though. So where did he come from?"
He got up and walked to the window, staring idly at the street below, lit by the orange glow of the street lights. He thought about the ghosts he knew, ghosts of people that died long ago, all with an obsession. If it wasn't for that obsession, that link to the living, they wouldn't exist. Boxes. Technology. Writing.
And then he thought about the tiny blob that was Skulker. Where had he come from? He felt a sudden need to talk to Jazz, uncomfortable as that might be. It would have to wait until morning, though, she wouldn't appreciate him calling her at eleven o'clock in the evening.
"Let's call it a day," he said tiredly and then, turning to Sam, "I'll walk you to your car."
"You know I can take care of myself, don't you?"
Danny grinned at the dangerous undertone in her voice. "Sure. But all those muggers and rapists out there don't know that. I'm saving them a beating."
Wednesday passed pretty much the same way as the day before, with the exception that Tucker wasn't there to help him, but Sam. Mr Lancer seemed pleased to see her and took her on a tour around the school, pointing out the differences to her, showing her the new science lab and the upgraded library. She seemed very interested, and Danny happily let them go while he resumed his stake out of locker 724.
He made sure Mr Lancer saw him every now and then, but he walked around invisible as often as he could, mingling with the students, watching their behavior. They seemed normal enough to him, if a little subdued, eying Pointdexter's locker nervously. At this rate, it would take weeks to get them back to their normal bullying. Time Danny didn't have.
At the end of the day, he spotted the lanky brown haired teen who had been talking to Tucker the day before. He was standing at his locker, by himself, rummaging through his books to get the ones he needed at home. Danny turned visible around the corner and quietly walked up to him.
"Jay Fletcher?" he asked.
The boy jumped, slammed his locker shut and turned around, white faced. Too late Danny realized that the he had been attacked by a ghost here, and must be scared to death about the possibility that it could happen again.
"Sorry," he said apologetically, "Didn't mean to scare you. I'm Danny Fenton."
He held out his hand and Jay shook it hesitantly. "The ghost hunter," he said, "Find anything yet?"
Danny shook his head, looking at the student in front of him, trying to gauge whether he could ask him to help him with his plan.
"No," he said, "Problem is, we can't find it unless it manifests itself, and it only does that when there is bullying going on. Everybody has been extremely well behaved around here, so the ghost stays away."
"Yeah, well," Jay said tensely, "That's a good thing, right? I mean, if it keeps people from bullying, then the problem is solved, right?"
Danny studied him. He didn't really mean that. The boy was glancing up and down the hallway, seemingly eager to get out of there as fast as possible.
"Do you really think that?" he asked, "People will forget after a while, and it'll start all over again. The ghost injured you and almost injured principal Inshiyama. What will be next? And you told us it doesn't always get the right person either."
Jay looked at the floor. "Huh," he grumbled, "You're the only one who believes me then." He looked up. "Apart from Roger, that is."
Danny turned around, and saw a boy with black hair and large glasses, carrying a sloppy backpack, looking at them. Danny smiled an almost feral smile. These two were perfect for his plan. Now all he had to do was convince them to cooperate.
"Hi Jazz, how's it going?"
"Oh, hi Danny, I'm fine, thanks. How are you doing? How's the business going?"
"Good, I have a client. Listen, I need your opinion on something. What are ghosts?"
"You're kidding, right?" Laughter. "Ghosts are a form of energy, a consciousness, or a manifestation of a strong emotion or obsession. The stronger the emotion or obsession, the stronger the ghost."
"But..." Hesitation. "But what about Skulker. He was never a person, he just... is. Where did he come from?"
"I suppose you don't really need to die to get a strong emotion or obsession. Hey, you're the living proof of that. Maybe Skulker is the accumulated obsessions of hunters throughout the country, or maybe even the world. That'd make sense... maybe I'll do a paper on it."
"Yeah, right, and then you're gonna interview Skulker for it?"
"Why not? You can catch him for me and get him out of that stupid suit of his. Or maybe I can just ask. Who knows, he might even be willing to talk to me."
"Jazz, this is the ghost that's still after my hide. Don't even think of trying to talk to him."
She laughed again, and he felt a pang of longing, suddenly wishing they were all together again, with her living in Amity Park in stead of thousands of miles away, having her own practice and almost married to a guy who was nice enough, Danny supposed, but who also took his sister away from him. A moment later, he regretted that thought.
"When are you going back to college?"
"Jazz..."
"It won't hurt you to do only a few courses. That way you'll still have time to do your ghost hunting and start your business. You could even do one on parapsychology, that way you won't have to call me all the time for information."
"Look..."
"Come on, Danny, you're wasting your talents. You have so much potential, you're smart, I know you are, and..."
"Can we just get back to the subject?"
"I thought we were finished? What else did you want to know?"
Danny closed his eyes. "Remember Pointdexter?"
"Locker 724? That's a legend, a story to scare other students."
"Oh, he's real enough. I beat him ten years ago and now it seems he's back, only more violent than before. Point is, there was never a student named Pointdexter in the school, so I though it could be he's like Skulker."
Silence at the other side of the line.
"I suppose the negative energy of all the students being bullied could accumulate into a ghost. But I think it'd need some sort of object to attach itself to... oh. The locker. The legend created itself, it manifested itself as the story the students had thought up themselves. Funny."
"Yes, well, I destroyed the mirror it used as a portal ten years ago. The locker itself seems clean."
"Maybe you didn't destroy all of it? You said Pointdexter is more violent now. It could have something to do with the nature of the bullying that's going on at the school. Did you check if there are any gangs in the school? Students being extorted, that sort of stuff? Drugs? Weapons? I think the nature of the haunting would change if the cause of it changed."
Danny sighed, and stared out of the window of his tiny bedroom.
"Danny? Will we see you at Christmas?"
"Are you gonna stop nagging?"
"I'm not nagging. I'm just concerned, just like mom and dad. We like to see you do well."
"Well, I'm doing great. And no, I'm not coming because one, I don't like Christmas and two, I don't have the money to buy a plane ticket. Bye, Jazz, thanks for the information."
"Bye, Danny."
Danny looked at the two boys in front of him, Jay Fletcher and Roger Cully, pale faced but determined. It had taken them a day to arrive to the decision that, yes, they would help him catch the ghost, another day of convincing Mr Lancer that they needed to set up a trap, and then some fast talking from Tucker to convince the boys' parents to agree to their involvement. The argument that had finally convinced them all was that, although the attacks had stopped now, they were bound to come back when everybody forgot about it. At least this way, they would have some control.
"I just need bait," Danny had said to them, "I'd do it myself, but I don't think that would work. There's no danger. We'll be close by, and we'll catch the ghost before it does any harm."
Mr Lancer was still doubtful over the operation and had insisted to stay close by, ready to pull the plug if it appeared to go wrong. Danny wasn't particularly concerned about that, he was sure he'd be able to catch Pointdexter as soon as he came out of hiding. Sam's frown, however, told him that she didn't entirely agree, but she said nothing.
"You'll be right there, right?" Jay asked, "If that ghost...takes me again, can you stop me? I'm pretty strong... I worked out a lot because of the bullying..."
"Don't worry," Danny said reassuringly, measuring the boy, "I can take you."
He wondered what Sam was smiling about. The two boys sauntered into the empty hallway, the students that normally crowded it long gone. Jay, being the taller of the two, would act as the bully, and Roger, a clumsy, heavy boy with his glasses perched at the tip of his nose, looked like the perfect target. He pulled out the ecto gun, for show, and saw Sam and Tucker do the same with the live ones. Besides that, Sam held the thermos and Tucker kept the Fenton Lipstick as a backup gun.
They had convinced Mr Lancer to stay back a little, and the man was standing at the end of the hallway in the doorway of the nurse's office, waiting. Danny felt the tension rise, and willed himself to calm down. He had done this a thousand times before, the only difference was that he was human now, and he had an audience. He peered around the corner.
Down the hallway, Jay and Roger started their little performance, Jay pushing Roger against the lockers right in front of locker 724, shouting at him, demanding money. Danny listened to his threats and wondered for a brief moment where the boy had picked those up. There was definitely something wrong in the school.
The boys were silent for a while, Roger fumbling in his pockets for his wallet, Jay trying to look intimidating, while looking up and down the hallway as if he was concerned somebody might see them. Danny knew he was in fact concerned about the ghost taking over again. Roger handed him the money, and Jay stepped back, seemingly counting it. A blue mist escaped from Danny's mouth. He grinned.
"It's working," he whispered excitedly.
"I know," Sam said, and then, "Watch out!"
It happened so fast nobody could react in time. The bottom of the lockers right under locker 724 suddenly glowed bright green and a green, snake like stream of ectoplasm shot through the hallway and slammed into Jay. The boy seemed frozen on the spot for a moment, and then he dropped the money and moved, his eyes a bright red.
"Get him, Danny!" Tucker yelled, dashing forward and pointing his ecto gun at Jay, but not daring to use it unless it was absolutely necessary. Ecto guns could leave nasty burn wounds.
Danny didn't need to be told what to do. He dashed forward and grabbed hold of Jay just before he could slam his head against a locker, which without a doubt would have given him a concussion had he succeeded. Yelling at his friends to get Roger, who was still standing there wide eyed, out of there, he turned Jay around and pressed him against the lockers, holding him in place. Two glowing red eyes stared at him.
"Fenton," he growled.
It was Pointdexter's voice, and yet, it wasn't. This was something infinity more dark and sinister, and Danny mentally assigned his sister points for correctly assessing Pointdexter's nature. The boy seemed to go limp in his grip and closed his eyes, sighing. Sam and Tucker started to drag a struggling Roger away from the scene, and Danny loosened his grip somewhat, not wanting to cause the boy bruises. A mistake.
Pointdexter's eyes shot open again and he hurled Danny away from him, using Jay's strength and the element of surprise. Danny slammed into the lockers on the other side of the hallway, causing a few dents. One opened, and a pile of books fell on the floor next to him.
"Look out!" Roger yelled, "He's got a knife!"
Danny scrambled to his feet and got into a fighting stance, taking in his opponent, who now indeed held a small stiletto in his right hand.
"Crap," he muttered, berating himself for not checking the boy for weapons.
Pointdexter grinned evilly and moved forward, seemingly enjoying himself. They circled each other, waiting for the other to make the first move. From the corner of his eyes Danny saw Sam, pointing her gun at Pointdexter, looking uncertain. It was a difficult shot from the end of the hallway, and the risk of hitting Danny was considerable. An ecto gun would probably cause a burn wound on Jay. To Danny, it would cause considerably more damage.
His heart pounding in his throat, Danny decided to wait Pointdexter out. He'd never faced somebody with a knife before, and although he was a pretty good fighter by now, the knife worried him. He knew all about fighting ghosts and fighting people was something else entirely, although he could probably hold his own in unarmed combat. He decided he'd need some training in this. That didn't help him now though.
His eyes shot to the end of the hallway again, and saw that Mr Lancer and Roger were now peering around the corner of the Nurse's office. But maybe they couldn't see them all that well. Sam was blocking their view partially.
He dashed forward, right into Pointdexter's knife, who struck out at him. Going partly intangible at the last possible moment, he let his hand shoot out and reached inside Jay, trying to push the violent ghost out. He hadn't counted on Pointdexter moving his hand at the last possible moment though, and a blinding pain shot through his left arm when the knife hit him in a spot he hadn't turned intangible.
He let out a scream in pain, and then they both slammed against the lockers. Again, Danny slammed his right arm inside of Jay and let a small ecto blast go from his hand, causing the ghost to shriek in anger. But Jay was free now, and the boy sank to the floor, looking dazed. Danny stared at the ghost floating in front of him, resembling Pointdexter in his black and white features, but somehow looking more angular and darker. Then he glanced at his left arm, and saw the knife still sticking out of it, going about halfway in, but not completely through and through. He felt dizzy.
Pointdexter grinned evilly at him and then charged forward, clearly intending to try and use the overshadowing trick on Danny himself. Danny stumbled backwards and raised his his hand to fire at him, too slow. Then a swirling blue vortex appeared out of nowhere, and the ghost started howling, struggling and trying to get a hold of Danny, while he was sucked into the thermos Sam was holding. Two seconds later he was gone.
Quiet settled over the hallway, and Danny leaned against the lockers and let himself slide to the floor. Sam rushed over to him, and he heard the running footsteps of the others. He moved his hand to the knife to pull it out, but Sam stopped him.
"Wait," she said, "He could have hit an artery. Leave it for now, let's go to the nurses office, we'll be able to put a compress on it."
She helped him up, and he was vaguely aware of the others following him into the nurse's office, Roger supporting Jay, Mr Lancer and Tucker following close behind. Sam sat him down and started rummaging through the nurse's supplies until she found what she needed. She curtly dismissed Mr Lancer's suggestion they call an ambulance, said 'brace yourself' do Danny and yanked the knife from the wound, immediately putting the compress on it, and then tied the bandages tightly.
He was surprised at the pain. He'd been hurt before, seriously even, but it had all been when he was in his ghost form. Some wounds transferred to his human half, if they were serious enough, but he had never been wounded while being human before. This would take some getting used to. He stared at Sam's efficient hands. Maybe he could get used to this.
"Miss Manson," Mr Lancer said, "I didn't know you went to med school?"
"I didn't," she said, "But I took a few courses in first aid. Thought it might be useful."
Danny grinned at her, pale faced, but feeling better by the minute. It must have been the shock, he decided, that had made him feel so weak all of a sudden. Then he turned to Jay, who cringed.
"Why on earth are you carrying a knife?" he asked him.
Jay looked at the ground and mumbled something. Mr Lancer looked both angry and worried. Roger was fidgeting and then finally reached into his pocket and put his own knife on the nurse's desk.
"For protection," he said, "Not to use it on anybody, you know, but with all that's been going on lately..."
Mr Lancer looked at them sternly.
"You know I'll have to take it away from you," he said, "And I'll have to inform your parents..."
Both Roger and Jay looked stricken at that. Sam interfered.
"I think," she said to Mr Lancer, "You'll need to investigate what's going on in the school. The nature of the bullying caused the nature of the ghost. I think there's more going on than just your basic bullying here."
She turned to Danny.
"And you're an idiot. What were you thinking, rushing into a knife like that?"
"Um," he said, "I wasn't?"
He managed to look sheepish. Slowly, he eased himself from the couch he had been sitting on and stood up. Then he turned to the two boys.
"Thanks for your help," he said sincerely, and then he bent forward and tried his best piercing look on them. "Tell Mr Lancer what's going on," he said.
They both nodded, and, after a nod from Mr Lancer, rushed out the door. Danny turned to the overweight teacher.
"Well, this settles it. We have the ghost, and we'll dispose of it. Give us a call if there are any more problems, but I don't expect any. And," he smiled at that, "Expect the bill tomorrow. Bye Mr Lancer."
He extended his hand, and Mr Lancer shook it, looking pensive. Danny was just about to walk out of the door, when he spoke.
"Mr Fenton."
Danny turned around.
"I'm not really sure what it is you're trying to hide, but you'll have to do a better job at it. People will notice. Use your equipment more."
Danny looked stunned for a moment, and then he smiled and raised his hand.
"Bye, Mr Lancer," he said.
The school was dark, deserted, only lit by the pale moon light shining through the windows and the ghostly glow of one Danny Phantom, floating in the middle of the hallway in front of locker number 724. Next to him Sam Manson and Tucker Foley, looking curious as their ghostly friend examined the bottom of the lockers.
"It came from here," Danny said, his hollow voice echoing through the hallway.
He went intangible and stuck his head inside the bottom lockers and then felt below it with his hands. It took him only a minute to find it.
"Look," he said, landing softly on the floor in a semblance of obeying the rule of gravity, holding up a single shard of glass.
"A piece of the mirror you smashed," Tucker whispered, "It's been under the lockers all this time, waiting, accumulating power from the victims of the bullies. And with all these weapons around and the kind of threats that are being used, Pointdexter turned into something nasty..."
Danny nodded and looked at Sam, then threw the shard into the air. Sam whipped out the thermos and caught it neatly into the blue vortex.
"Case closed," she said.