Bonjour, mes chers! It's been quite a while, hasn't it? Now, before you all grab the pitchforks and torches, the reason I'm starting a new story is because this is my gift for the Christmas Truce.

Becca, unknowingly, assigned me cheshire-kas You know. My girlfriend who I'm utterly in love with? The prompt was Happy Iambic Prose and boy howdy did I go overboard. Brushed off an old thing and added about 20k more words to it this month with more planned.

I'm uploading the first few chapters tonight to prove that yes, I did do a thing and got my gift all nice and wrapped, but they'll be more uploaded over the next few days.

Chapter One

::

"I'm getting really tired of the work your English teacher is assigning you." Danny Fenton gave a quiet sigh, already prepared for the rant his boyfriend was ready to go into. It happened daily, at this point. "It's subpar, and while this is a nice lesson for those two years below you, it's ridiculous for someone in your year."

"Andy, you've been saying this since you started tutoring me when I was a freshman. You're just upset us Americans are behind compared to you weird French people."

"I won't dignify that with a response." Laughing, Danny fell to lay across the man's lap, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

"Because I'm right?" There was no response, Danny chuckling again and reaching up to steal a quick kiss. "Should I be prepared for you to start threatening death to him again?"

"Comes with being an assassin." Looking over at the different voice, Danny snorted at seeing his boyfriend's brother walking across the top of one of the bookshelves, the teen's math textbook in his hands as he read it. "Kind of a habit to threaten death to people we don't like, at this point."

"Former assassin, thank you," Andrew snapped, telekinetic powers pulling Danny's notebook towards him. "You need to finish your creative writing assignment- Oh, don't give me that look. You're the one who signed up for the elective."

"Yeah, cause I thought it would be fun. The dude who teaches it keeps giving us really weird prompts, though- I mean, look at this. Tell me you could make something good with this assignment." Andrew pushed the notebook a few inches away from where it had been shoved into his face, reading over the words. "Look at this."

There was a long silence, Andrew's eyes finally narrowing, "I have one more teacher of yours I wish to kill, now."

"You want to kill all his teachers, especially the English ones. You probably think you could do better than them," Randy laughed, flipping a page in the book. "By the way, these equations? Total bullshit. What do they teach you in schools these days?"

"Just that," Danny rolled his eyes. "Bullshit." Taking his notebook from Andrew, he moved to where he was comfortably sitting in the other's lap, smiling at the look he was given. "You're comfy."

"Glad I'm nothing but a glorified chair for you, then." At the wicked smile he was given, Andrew quickly covered the teen's mouth. "I don't want you to even finish that thought." He could feel the sunny smile he was being given. "Keep grinning, but you're not leaving here until you write the 500 words you need to."

"Oh, no. Trapped in a living library with my wonderful mate and boyfriend. Terrible. Dreadful. Truly, the horror I am being subjected to. It is far too much. This is the end for me! Kidnapped by ruthless ghosts! Locked away for the rest of my days- Never again to see the world!"

"I'm kind of impressed by how dramatic he got near the end there," Randy hummed, Danny giving him a thumbs up from where he was once again collapsed across Andrew's lap. "Seriously, though. This math book? Shit."

"You should see my French textbook." At the look, Danny sighed and pointed it out. "Go ahead. Andy already bitched about it- You know, for being 'mature and responsible' adults, you two really aren't all that mature and responsible."

"I died as a college student during the 80s. There's no saving me from that," Andrew shifted, propping his legs up on the coffee table in front of them and looking through the work Danny had finished, checking off the occasional error. "Besides, 22 is as immature as 17. Ask any adult." Danny looked to Randy.

"It's true. We're immature bastards for whom there is no hope of saving- What… What am I looking at- That- No. What is this!" The last few words were said in French, Danny feeling like he was more amused than he should have been. "Petit mec, what horror am I looking at?"

"High School French." At the dramatic groan, the teen shook his head and went back to outlining his creative writing assignment. "Yeah, tell me about it. Either of you could probably teach that class better- The woman who teachers it is like, Spanish, or something? I mean, no judgement, but she slips into Spanish a lot when teaching."

"Spanish does have similar words and connotations when compared with the French language," Andrew noted, circling a problem on the math homework and handing it back to Danny. "Wrong equation."

"Number three?"

"Number three." Huffing, Danny erased the answer, fixing it in a few moments and holding it back up to Andrew. "Perfect."

"Merci," Danny gave a sunny smile. "My French is already better than most of the class, considering I spend so much time around you two- Although the teacher was surprised I knew so many words for 'death' and 'killing'. I told her it was video games."

"Nice comeback," Randy snorted, using one of the spare pens to make corrections in the French textbook. Danny wasn't even one bit surprised.

"You deface that book, you get to pay for it when the year is out. Anyways, back onto the subject of, you know, killing my English teacher. Lancer won't even be there for the next four weeks. Something about a family cruise? I dunno, school's still looking for a sub that will be around that long, though."

"Still looking, huh?" Randy grinned, Danny narrowing his eyes at the tone of voice. "I'm curious! But, basically, you're telling me they need an English teacher, yeah?" At the hesitant nod, Randy's grin grew wider. "I see-"

"No, you don't see. You're merely thinking idiotic things again," Andrew's tone was sharp and fierce as he threw a pen at his brother's head. With his training in throwing knives, it of course hit the other perfectly, right in the center of his forehead. "Don't even think about it."

"What? You're the one who said the kids deserve someone who actually knows what's going on-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Danny interrupted, hands held up for silence. "Are you actually suggesting that Andy apply for the teaching job? Seriously? For one, I thought he didn't have his degree. For two, he's a ghost. For three- Actually, I don't even think I need more evidence than that."

"But he does have his degree," Randy pointed out, Danny looking back to Andrew, who gave a small shrug.

"Online accredited program. Finished a few years after I died." Danny nodded, gaze going back to Randy.

"Ghost."

"Okay, but, I mean-"

"Ghost. Even if he does have his degree, and even if it would be really amazing for him to work there, do you really think Amity Park is gonna hire him? The town that suffers ghost attacks daily- Well, not as many as there used to be, and not so much attacks as chaos and pranks- But still! They'd more likely call my parents!"

"So, since it's so hopeless, neither of you would care if I submitted his resume!" Before either one could argue, Randy was already gone from the area, the two hearing the distant noise of the front doors opening and closing. Andrew was the first one to react, a heavy sigh leaving him as he slumped forward to hide his face in Danny's shoulder.

"I know, I know, your brother's an idiot," Danny soothed, hand running through the other's hair. "There, there. It's not like they would actually hire you even if they did get a hold of you, right?"

::

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me." One weekend later and Danny had almost forgotten about Randy's 'plan'. Walking in and seeing Andrew sitting at the desk in English 101, though, had him almost walking back out the door. He wasn't even in a human disguise. He was utterly and completely ghostly. He was also looking rather pissed off.

"Wait… Wait, is that-" Tucker's question was cut off as other students behind them pushed them in, Danny reluctantly taking his seat and giving a look to Andrew, who returned it with a halfhearted eyeroll. Definitely Randy's fault, then. The other students, he noticed, seemed to be as confused as he was.

With the bell sending out it's warning ring, Andrew finally sighed and stood up, uncapping a dry erase marker and writing his name on the board behind him. "My name is Andrew Riter. You will be referring to me as Mr. Riter, anything else and you'll sorely regret the consequences." Yep. Definitely Andrew.

"For the next four weeks, I'll be your English teacher."