Alright. In honor of Masters' weapon's one year anniversary here is part one of day two. Eventually the two parts will be one chapter, but I was determined to get something posted tonight. I have an uber major large amount of homework to get done this weekened. I can barely sleep...it's horrible. I'm going to have a break down, I know it.

But here's chapter two part one. Enjoy.

Day two: Cooking lessons.

Zimmers awoke early in the morning, aroused by the soft ringing of his com device. The boy brought it up to his ear immediately, not wanting to waken the softly slumbering Danny.

"Yes boss?" He asked, sitting up on the small cot.

"How did it go, Zimmers?" Vlad demanded from the other end. "Is he alright?"

"No fever, sir." Zimmer replied, walking over to Danny's crib. "He had slight discomfort when the sedative wore off, but other than that, nothing. I put the lotion on to make the marks fade. His mother will never suspect a thing."

There was a dark chuckle from the other end.

"You're doing fine so far." The man murmured. "Just don't mess up, and you may be rewarded."

"Thank you, boss." Zimmers whispered. The device clicked as Vlad hung up, leaving the boy all alone in his guilt.

He lay back down on the bed's soft mattress, reveling in the warmth and comfort he got from it. His cot at the lab was hard and lumpy; not at all relaxing.

"This is how normal people sleep." He thought to himself. "This is how he sleeps. I could lay here forever…"

Eventually the sun peeked over the horizon, bathing the room in its surreal red glow. Zimmers winced as he looked out the window, his eyes still unused to the overwhelming brightness of the outside world. He placed his glasses on his face, blinking a few times to clear his vision. Danny was still slumbering in his crib, tired after his body's silent fight with the ectoplasm. It had been a very quiet night…

But the other Fenton refused to be ignored.

"Douglass." Jazz called, rapping timidly on the door with her fist. "I'm hungry. It's past breakfast."

Zimmers groaned, getting to his feet.

Wearing a baggy shirt and sweatpants, he headed to the door, yawning loudly. He turned the handle, revealing the small girl standing in front of the doorway, looking pitiful in her satin pink nightgown.

"What do you want to eat?" The boy asked, strolling out into the hall.

"Eggs." The girl replied. "Scrambled eggs, with toast."

Zimmers mentally groaned.

"How about just toast?" He suggested, entering the kitchen. "Eating too much can't be good for you."

Jazz trailed behind him, shaking her head fervently.

"Scrambled eggs." She insisted. "They're my favorite."

The teen ignored her, opening up the breadbox, and removing two pieces from inside. He then stuck them in the toaster, and pulled down the lever, allowing the coils to heat up. Then, he went over to the fridge, and removed the tub of butter, setting it on the counter.

"You like butter, don't you?" Zimmers asked, never even turning to the girl.

"I like eggs more." Jazz quipped.

"I can't make that." The boy admitted, focusing on the toaster. There was a click, and the bread popped up, their tops poking above the hole. Zimmers took them in his hands, before swiftly buttering them, and setting them on a plate. He then held it out to the girl, motioning for her to take it. Jazz just stared at him incredulously, standing dumbly in the kitchen.

"I suppose you don't like it this way." Zimmers snapped, drawing back. "I suppose you like it in four pieces, like before?"

Still the girl was silent.

The teen growled, cutting at the bread until the two slices were separated into eight sections. Zimmers then held the plate out to Jazz again, his patience quickly fading.

Still she did not take it.

"I'm trying my best." The boy snapped. "I'm not a chef, and I'm not good at taking care of little girls. Take the food."

Still silence. Zimmers sighed, and set the plate on the counter, turning on his heel, and moving to leave the room.

It was then that Jazz spoke up.

"I can show you."

The teen stopped mid step.

"What?" He asked.

"I can show you how to make eggs." The girl repeated. "My mommy showed me. It's really easy."

Zimmers paused.

"You'd really show me how?" He asked. "You'd show me how to cook?"

Jazz nodded.

"It's just because you're hungry, isn't it?" The teen snapped. "You're only teaching me because you can get something."

The girl shook her head vigorously.

"Cooking's useful." Jazz replied. "Mommy says it's very important. How are you going to eat if you can't cook?"

Zimmers huffed slightly, his Master's voice echoing through his mind.

"Be nice to her, Zimmers."

"Are you sure you know how to cook?" The boy asked. Jazz nodded, slowly walking towards the teen and gently taking his hand in hers. Zimmers fought his instinct to draw back, and allowed himself to be led over to the fridge.

"You need four eggs." The girl said, pointing at the fridge door.

Zimmers nodded, reaching out and taking the handle in his grasp…

Sun filtered through the small kitchen window, highlighting small dust motes as they drifted along lazily in the warm air. Zimmers found himself sitting at a small round table, holding a large mug in his hands. It smelled like tea…the tea his mother would make.

"How do you want your eggs Zimmers?" A voice asked. The boy looked up, smiling as he met the shining eyes of his mother.

"Scrambled." He replied, taking another gulp of tea. "With cheese."

"Scrambled it is then." The woman laughed, turning back to the counter, and picking up her metal whisk.

"How are you supposed to hold this thing?" Zimmers growled, fumbling with the egg filled bowl. He tried to whisk it awkwardly with his other hand, but ended up splattering the yellow contents over himself and the floor.

"Hook your thumb over the edge." Jazz said, popping her thumb into her mouth. "That's how mommy does it."

The teen sighed, doing as he was told, now able to keep the bowl under control. After the liquid looked well mixed, he poured it into a frying pan, and turned on the burner.

"Now we wait." Jazz smiled.

Zimmers nodded, watching as the girl left the room. Once he was sure she was out of sight, he began looking through the cupboards, careful to avoid the one Jazz has specified. That would be for later when he was feeling more motivated. Right now, he wanted something he hadn't had in years…

He wanted tea.

After looking fruitless for a few minutes, Zimmers admitted defeat, turning back to the eggs, allowing them to brown slightly before he turned off the burner.

"With Cheese…" His younger self giggled.

"Cheese…" The boy murmured, heading over to the fridge. He used to love cheese almost as much as tea. He hadn't had cheese since he had been captured. Looking around, he spotted a bright red bag labeled "Cheddar" lying on one of the fridge's lower shelves. If memory served him, he preferred Colby on his eggs, but now was not the time to be picky.

"Hope you like cheese." Zimmers called into the other room. He could hear Jazz inside, watching TV. He poured the whole bag of cheese onto the eggs and picked up a spatula to stir it in. Then he plopped a huge dollop on Jazz's toast plate, and another on a fresh one for himself. Taking the two plates, the boy walked into the living room, and set one beside the girl.

He watched the TV screen for a moment, before speaking.

"I have to go take care of Danny now." Zimmers whispered. "If you need anything, call me. But make sure it's important."

The girl nodded, taking a bite of the eggs. A smile spread across her face.

"I like cheese." She said. Zimmers nodded, turning from the room, and silently walking up the steps.

But something inside him was proud…

Proud that he had cooked…and that someone had liked it.