A/N: I'm back. Evidently. ^^

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize from anywhere that is not this story, is not mine.

And I get no money from any of this.

On with the Story:

Chapter 2:

``1...2...3...4...5... Wait... is that too much?´´ Jack hesitates, how many spoons full of sugar can he really pour into this cup of coffee before it's more of a health hazard than the lack of sleep from which his desire for caffeine originates in the first place?

Then again, it's not like he was asking himself this question when drinking the last five cups and he has not slept in three days.

Thus it will not make any difference what he does or does not put in his coffee anymore, anyway.

He pours another spoon full of sugar and then follows that up with boiling water, the instant coffee dissolves immediately.

Jack picks up his cup and heads towards his bed room, he should really just bring the water boiler there too, he muses.

He'd certainly be spending less time wiping coffee of his wooden floors.

He's not clumsy exactly but somehow he always manages to pour just a little too much water into his cup, which he then consequently spills by simply walking.

Not this time though, this time he makes it almost into his room before he steps on the hem of his way-too-long sweat pants.

He stumbles but does not fall, regardless, boiling hot coffee spills over his bare feet.

Jack curses, but does not drop his cup or spill any more of it's contents.

He is too stubborn to be defeated by this minor instance of a hot liquid trying to assassinate him, he'll be doing society a favor by erasing this mean-spirited drink from existence by, well, drinking it.

Never mind that the coffee really has no way of fighting back, he still feels satisfied when he bests it by safely putting it down onto the table next to his bed.

One minute and a lazily thrown towel later he is sitting on his bed in front of his laptop, putting on his headphones and drags his finger over the touch pad until the cursor reaches the "play/pause" sign.

He does not have anything to do today, he has not had anything to do for the last three days, at night though, he's always busy.

The fact that Manny has forbidden him from talking to normal humans without any obvious reason, does not change the whole "Ghost-sight" situation.

Proper Psychics, people able to see ghosts without goggles, are always needed, always busy.

At least, at night they are.

On the laptop screen Agent Scully comes up with yet another reasonable explanation for why this weeks murder is not, in fact, anything supernatural.

About three episodes of brilliant storytelling later, Jack is forced to face the real world again, he is pulled out of a riveting conversation between Agent Mulder and a disheveled looking and fairly incompetent Sheriff in a wooden cabin by a sound that jack is not accustomed to hearing at all.

A phone.

At first he assumes the sound simply originates from his headphones but after it keeps ringing even when the scene changes to a dark forest where there is absolutely no place for a phone at all, he pauses the episode.

The phone keeps ringing.

Quite honestly, Jack had completely forgotten he had such a thing as a land-line in the first place, he doesn't GET calls.

His assignments come in the mail and he has no acquaintances save the other guardians, and even those he only sees in passing, they don't talk to him more then necessary.

He finds the phone.

After 50 minutes of search he completely by chance opens a cupboard next to the fridge and finds it behind a messy stack of decade old files and loose papers, it's been ringing consistently every ten minutes, someone, it appears, really wants to talk to him.

``Who could this possibly be?´´ he says, more mocking then unfriendly.

``Jack Frost?´´ He knows this voice.

``Well, isn't this quite the surprise! Which one of Mannys Secretaries are you? Blue skirt or black skirt?´´

``I have a clear message for you, Mr. Frost. It does not contain any information about the color of my clothes´´

``Yes, it wouldn't help anyway would it, I've been suspecting you all buy your clothes at the same store and in the same colors just to confuse everyone else.´´

``Do you want to hear the message?´´

``depends on what it says, is it about the Pizza I ordered ?´´

A chuckle from the other end of the line, Jack grins he's always managed to make the Secretaries act a bit more human.

``Yes, we have it here at HQ, you can come get it. I'll keep it in the fridge next to the coffee machine´´

``...What?´´

``Mr. Frost, your presence is requested here at 3pm today.´´

That effectively wipes the smirk of his face.

``You can't be serious´´

``I am, quite serious, actually.´´

``Who requested my presence?´´

``Manny´´ she replies.

She must have heard his angry snort because she adds:

``Look, Jack, I'm sorry he's doing this to you, I don't know why either but I'm sure he has his reasons´´

``...Thank you, Lucy´´

There is a stunned momentary silence.

``I'm never wearing my name tag when we see each other´´

``You introduced yourself on my second week in isolation´´

``that was 290 years ago...´´ More silence ``You really are something else´´

``I'll be there´´

``I appreciate it´´

``And I want to see that Pizza when I get there´´

This time he even gets a genuine laugh from her ``I'll see you Jack´´

They hang up.

The secretaries Manny uses as his personal messengers are always nice to talk to, Jack thinks they

appreciate that he lets them be more human, more unprofessional around him.

It occurs to him that he has no idea what time it is.

He sighs and gets up to meander towards his closet, he needs to get dressed.

3 pm is still quite some time away but he lives far from the city and it'll take a while to get there.

Another cup of coffee is definitely in order.

A twenty minute walk later he arrives at the bus station closest to his home.

Now obviously, since he is to avoid contact with normal humans, that is non-guardians, at all times, it is not a conventional, public bus station.

Instead it is for guardians only and stops nowhere along the way, it also drives during the night when all other means of public transportation are long since shut down due to the Ghost-problem.

Jack stares up at the gray sky, it's not raining but the sun is covered by heavy dark clouds. It hasn't snowed yet this year, perhaps it will start soon, he hopes so.

The AGGA-bus takes it's sweet time, it always does, his station is very remote, there is no other guardian living anywhere near him and so he waits alone, as always.

Finally, the damned vehicle arrives and Jack enters, the driver does not acknowledge him.

``You know you're supposed to ask me for my Guardian-Id´´ he doesn't get an answer, this is, of course because his looks are rather distinct and the driver knows him by sight, no need for an identification. Still...

``Are you that insistent on ignoring me? You're gonna skip protocol, just so you don't have to prove to me I exist? Hellooo?´´

Jack knows that if he were anyone else the driver would greet him, make small-talk perhaps and, recognizable appearance or not, ask him for his Id.

The man always follows these steps, except when it comes to Jack, Jack is ignored.

The young guardians sighs and shoves his Id into the drivers face for good measure, then he

sits down in the seat the farthest away from the entrance and looks around.

The AGGA-bus looks almost like any other bus, several rows of seats, two doors, many windows.

There are however, some differences.

For example, there are several small shelves and hooks next to the seats, those are to store the weapons somewhere during the ride. That is, is one is willing to let go of their weapon or, for that matter, even capable of doing so.

There is no limitation on how many weapons one can claim as their own but since weapons capable of killing ghost are rare in and of themselves it is unlikely for one guardians to find more then one.

Especially since those kinds of weapons can only be used by whichever guardian claimed them.

It is for this reason that most guardians are so protective of their Weapons.

Jack glances down at his staff, he can't remember the last time he let it go when he was not within the safety of his own home and even then he never keeps it farther than a few feet away, easily within reach.

As for his other weapon, well, he would not be able to let that one go even if he wanted to.

A bitter smile.

Jack does not know what Manny could possibly what from him, why he would summon HIM of all people to HQ.

Jack has never been there and he finds that he is rather curious.

He does not delude himself into thinking this might change anything.

He will still be regarded as non-existent by everyone in the AGGA, well, except for Manny, he summoned him after all.

That is the only reason he is going there, really.

Manny has not spoken to him in over 300 years and Jack has been waiting for his chance to confront him, he feels he has a right to do that, too.

Answers are all he wants and that, he is sure of this, is most definitely within his rights.

The driver is staring straight ahead at the road, probably in a self-imposed state of hypnosis to get rid of the boredom, that's what he gets for refusing to talk to Jack.

Oh... What a petulant thought.

Since Jack is obviously already in a childish mood, he starts to seriously consider starting to sing, "slow ride" maybe, mimicking an air-guitar or something.

On second thought, Jack really likes that song, he does not want to butcher it just to spite mister "keep-your-existence-to-yourself" over there.

He sighs and resigns himself to a silent journey.

A/N: Alright, I know a lot of things seem kind of weird right now but everything will be explained, really.

I feel embarrassed doing this again, but alas, I really do want reviews so...

Actually, I'm going to trust you to just write one if you have anything to say or if you feel pity for this poor really-not-very-confident Author.

The story will speed up soon, all set-up right now.

See you, hopefully. ^^