In the fall of 1974, Crystal turned seventeen, but she wouldn't turn eighteen until summer, 2007. At least, not officially. It was hard to count the years when you were dead.
She mused to herself often, when she was in that sort of a musing mood, that it was amazing, truly, that her body had been preserved for almost thirty years, buried underneath piles of ash and blocks of ice that she suspected were ghostly in origin, as ghostly as the fire was that had killed her.
Her and Jack and Ted, all those years ago, in turbulent times. Nixon's resignation and People magazine and all the tension from the Vietnam war, but still with enough time for her to focus on her dream – rock and roll and fame and stardom, and looking up to Freddie Mercury and Joni Mitchell and Eric Clapton and everyone else.
And Jack with the accident that changed everything, and all of a sudden he had ghost powers and fought to use them all through school, and her and Ted trying to hide him from all of the paranoia, and even with everything else, he still remembered her birthday.
The guitar was beautiful. Purple and blue, her favorite colors, with all sorts of decorations on it. She strummed it and loved it, brandished it around yelling her favorite curses, Fuck the Police, and Reject Adult Authority, and all that. Because even at seventeen, she wasn't willing to be an adult. All she wanted was to sing, and play her guitar, and grow old and be fantastic.
And it was the 1970s, and she smoked a lot, and drank a lot, and got into trouble when Jack and Ted had to take her home, but a lot of people were like that, and she still managed to pass with decent grades.
But if there was one thing that she loved the most, it wasn't her guitar. It was the man who gave it to her. Jack.
Even with his strange powers, even with his wise-cracking jokes and his immature sense of humor, he was her best friend, and she'd been in love with him for years. They fought together, kept all of the ghosts away, even when there was no ghost portal to put them in. It was easier, back then, to dress strange and have your hair and eyes be weird colors and walk around beating people up late at night, and plenty of people were doped up on all kinds of things, so it was easy to write off glowing and shape-shifting as strange drug-induced hallucinations.
Unfortunately, though, some of their enemies were smart enough to figure out how to get back to town after they'd been taken care of, and Desman was one of them. He was, by far, the most dangerous of their enemies, and Jack had called him a nemesis once, before Crystal had told him that it was lame to call someone a nemesis.
When your enemy could shape-shift into any form he wanted, you got used to looking at suspicious objects twice, and making sure you could verify someone's identity before they could sneak up behind you. After a few attempts, Desman was probably sick of being attacked before he'd even changed out of his disguise.
Crystal was unsuspecting, this time. Why would she think to check the identity of the person who was supposed to be meeting her at the movies later? The note that he'd left was cute and she hadn't let go of it since it appeared on her bed that night.
So she waited.
And waited.
Hours passed and the people filed into the theater, and out again, and in, and there was no sign of him. She thought, maybe he got stuck with a ghost, hung out near the payphone in case he miraculously called it, and shivered in the September air.
She waited until the theater closed, two in the morning, and then, all she could do was worry and race home, try to call his house, call Ted, call anyone.
Jack didn't pick up. His mother answered the phone, gasped. Crystal, is that you? Jack hasn't come home. Have you seen him? I'm worried sick.
Ted was the same story. No sign since that evening, when he left after dinner without saying a word.
And then two weeks went by, and there was no sign of either of them, and Crystal was a nervous wreck by the end, looking around all the corners she could and opening lockers trying to find someone, something, that knew where they went.
The worst part, though, was that no one else around her, no one at school, ever even noticed. The only people who seemed to remember that they had even existed were her and their parents. She stayed up late, stopped doing what little homework she would have done otherwise, drank enough coffee to kill brain cells and didn't stop searching.
The only thing she had left was the guitar, and she kept it in a bag on her back at all times, protecting it as best she could.
Then, one day, all she could do was sleep, because she'd been awake probably for four days without so much as closing her eyes, and just like that, her house was up in flames and her parents were screaming at her to get out, get out, we don't know how but the gas line ignited, Crystal!
Crystal woke up as a ghost. Didn't even feel the pain, because the smoke knocked her out before she could have realized that there was a fire. And she woke up, and all she could hear and remember was Desman, laughing.
The first few days, she tried so very hard to find her way back home, check up on her parents, see what had happened to her house and her other friends. Unfortunately, though, this was almost a decade before the first artificial ghost portal would be built, as unsuccessful as it would be. Nearly three decades before she could actually get back to the real world with certainty.
Once in a while, she found ways to get in, though. Random openings and closings and rifts in the dimensions and all that. It was probably every couple of years or so, that she could get back to reality. Those were the times that she realized what sort of power she had over people. Jack's guitar had come with her, and she had some strange sway over it, so that whatever she wanted to do with it, was done. She could make people fall in love, especially with her, because it so pleased her to hear the masses chant her name when she played. She could break things, and burn things, and teleport, and had all kinds of tricks up her sleeves. She was more powerful the more she was loved, but unfortunately there were always people to send her back.
She never did find Jack, as far as she knew. And Ted? Well, he was dead, for sure. Jack at least had a chance to still be out there, as a ghost, or something. Ted, not so much.
The four wardens were always on her case, especially the female warden, Shiva, and she ended up in her all-woman prison a few times. Never for long, though, because her and Shiva had an understanding, somehow, and she was just doing her job, and they weren't really enemies. She was the kind of ghost that Ember (because she'd left Crystal behind, now) would want to play cards with, or have drinks with. Maybe someday, Shiva would say, when you decide to stop crossing between the worlds.
And the years passed, and slowly she began to change, and learn, and she almost gave up on ever finding Jack, instead cursing him for leaving her alone, wherever he might be, and not bothering to find her.
Then, the day came where she learned his secret.
He'd ended up in the Ghost Zone, and it had taken him ages to get back to the human realm, and when he tried to hunt her and Ted down, all he found were the tombstones.
Jack had chased Desman throughout the Ghost Zone, knowing that his two best friends were dead, swearing only revenge on the enemy that had ruined his life and happiness. It was just what Desman wanted, of course. When the wardens finally came to track the two of them down for their mayhem and destruction, Desman had sealed Jack into one of the warden's bodies, choosing that of the dragon, Gildemeir, seemingly forever.
The other three wardens proceeded to lock Desman up in the highest security prison they had, and there he was, to rot, for what they hoped was the rest of his afterlife.
Jack, though, was stuck, and try as the wardens might, they could not get him out. He and Gil shared a body, and Jack, depressed, chose to retreat into the confines of his host's subconscious.
That was, at least, until Ember McLain turned up in Walker's prison for the first time. Seemed like helping Danny Phantom save the world was only good for so much redemption, and she was caught messing with Danny (it was almost a game at this point, she had nothing against the kid) and unceremoniously dumped back home via thermos. Walker picked her up and threw her in the slammer, and honestly, she didn't notice the scaly dragon prowling around her cell at night. She was a little busy plotting her escape.
When Ember decided to pay another visit to Amity Park, to visit her tombstone, as she had the urge to do every once in a while, she was surprised to find that same dragon standing in front of the grave, with some flowers.
Her first response, of course, was to be on the defensive. Why was he here? How did he know Crystal McLain? Had he figured out who she was? Was he going to capture her and take her back to his prison? Lord knew she'd been in three out of the four. Did he want to make the number even?
Who are you and why are you here?
Hi Crystal.
She blinked, stepped back, automatically raised her guitar to fight. How do you know who I am?
The dragon sighed, put the flowers down on her grave. How could I not? His voice sounded different, familiar. I'm the one who gave you that guitar.
A gasp, another step back, stumbling, tripping over a gravestone and falling in the dirt.
Jack? She said, not even making an attempt to get up.
It was strange to see the dragon try to attempt Jack's signature smile, especially since it was a much sadder smile. Hey. Nice to see you again. Yes, that was definitely his voice, coming out of such an unexpected mouth.
For a moment, she didn't know what to think or how she felt. Then, all of a sudden, all that she could sense burning inside of her was anger. The wind whistled around her as she floated up into the air, hair roaring. Where have you been?! Why didn't you let me know you were okay?!
Clearly, this wasn't what he had been expecting. Oh, I'm sorry, I was a little busy being stuck inside a dragon, and chasing down my arch nemesis, and trying not to get myself killed again!
You left me all alone! You and Ted both. She choked on her words, looked away, hugged her guitar to her chest like it would make her feel better. And you didn't even try to find me.
No! No. He rushed over to her – she could see the old mannerisms coming out, even behind the scales and claws. With more care than she thought a dragon could muster, he held her hands. Ever so gentle. I've been trying to find you for years. I thought...
Thought what?
I thought you hadn't ended up as a ghost. That you had moved on. He lowered his head, averted his eyes from hers for a moment. I've been visiting your grave since they put it here. Since I found out about Desman's fire.
With much venom, she glared at him, spat her words. And you didn't hear about all the times I ended up in Shiva's prison? In Walker's?
A sigh. I've been letting Gil – this dragon, I mean – run the body. It didn't seem worth it to try to function anymore. I've just been... here. He gestured to the air. Being a nothing, a no one, just some part of his brain. I don't even know. Half the time I don't even remember who I am, just that I'm a part of something else.
There was a long silence between them. He didn't seem to want to spook her anymore, or maybe talking about his non-existence was too uncomfortable. She, certainly, didn't want to say anything, because all she could feel was anger, and hurt, and a little bit of betrayal, as unfair as that might be.
I just want my body back, she said.
Yeah, he replied, looking up at her sadly. Me too.
You have a chance, at least. Her fingers tightened on the frets of her guitar. My body is probably destroyed.
They never found it, after the fire, he said. Maybe it was just the heat that killed you. You're not scarred or burned, are you?
Without thinking, without remembering that there was thirty years of time between the two of them to change, Ember bent down and touched the her jeans, turning them invisible. She couldn't see his face, but she heard the hissing sound he made when he saw it. All the way down, from her toes up to her inner thigh, a whole line of mottled, puckered skin. Pink, or it would have been, if her skin wasn't blue.
Third degree burns, she said, as she returned to being fully clothed. They were probably all over my body, but they only manifested here.
More silence between the two of them. God, Jack said, through his dragon teeth.
Yeah.
Well, he said with a shrug, they never found your body. Who knows where it ended up.
She blinked. You mean, it's not buried here?
A shake of his great scaly head. Your house burned to the ground. Nothing but ash left. They tried to sift through it to find you, but no dice. You were just gone.
She sat on her own gravestone – it would have been more surreal, but, well, she'd been a ghost for a while. Would it still be there?
Who knows. He turned and walked towards a nearby willow tree. Maybe someone took it.
Ember shot up on a gasp and a glare. Desman. Desman has my body.
That's impossible, Jack, or rather Gil, shot back, his voice changing to match. Desman has been locked up in my prison for years.
No, it's not impossible, she spat, furious, excited. He had a lair, didn't he? He could have taken my body as a... She cringed and clutched her guitar. He could have taken me as a trophy. To prove that he'd finally won.
She felt nauseous, needed to sit down, but the ground seemed to have betrayed her for never telling her its secrets. She floated a few inches above it, not wanting to fall over or pass out. I have to get it.
That's crazy, Jack shouted, slicing his claw through the air dismissively. We raided his hideout decades ago. There isn't anything left but dust. He said this like he was proud, proud that he'd finally got the man who'd made his life a living... or dying... hell.
I have to get it, Ember repeated. It's my only chance. Don't you see?! She dropped the guitar (only the strap saved it from crashing on the ground) and grabbed his shoulders and shook him as only a woman could shake a man. Ted's gone. You're stuck in a dragon. But, if Desman took my body, which I know that he did, I can get back. I can come back to life.
Okay. It's not the situation. You're crazy. He brushed her off, surprisingly gentle. All you're going to do is run around a deserted cave and disappoint yourself.
Don't you get it, Jack?! She stalked off a ways. I would think you'd understand most. If you had a chance, even the smallest, most improbable chance, of getting out of that dragon's body, wouldn't you take it? No matter how crazy it seemed?
She floated up to him, and some of her old personality showed through the ghost rage. Softly, sadly, she said, Wouldn't you want to be human again?
His face was impassive, but if she knew Jack at all, if he hadn't really changed these past thirty years, she knew that she'd gotten to him.
Well go, then, he said, bitter. Go chase your improbable chance. Just leave me out of it. He turned, started to walk out of the graveyard.
You won't come with me?
The shadow of the lumbering dragon stopped, and he turned to look at her, the moonlight reflecting off of his eyes, making him look deadly and nothing like the boy she'd once knew. I'm done chasing the past, he said. And then, he was gone, vanished into ectoplasmic smoke.
Ember stood there for a few moments, not sure how to react. Then, she picked herself up, dusted herself off, cleaned a bit of the dirt and mud off of her precious guitar. Precious, now, because it was all that she had left of her human life. Once, she'd treasured it just because it had been his gift.
She scurried along through the Ghost Zone, visiting the familiar places she'd been over the years, until, finally, she reached Desman's cave.
Jack was right in saying that it would have only dust in it. She walked around, touching the walls, looking at the smashed furniture and burned papers and all of the remnants of his evildoing. Some of the trinkets she found in the rubble were those that she recognized. A locket he'd stolen. A pendant. Faded newspaper prints of her and Jack and Ted getting caught on camera by drunk paparazzi. Things from her past life, things that caused her stomach to clench up when she touched them, wiped the dust off of them.
There was something tugging at her, though. She could feel it in every fiber of her being. Her hunch was right. Desman had kept her body, and it was somewhere in here.
A shadow caught the light from behind her, and, not one to be surprised, she whipped around, guitar at the ready, only to find a large dragon, looking sheepish.
Jack!
Hi.
Without thinking, without even considering that he was a dragon and she was dead and that they'd been apart for thirty years, which seemed to be a recurring theme in their relationship, she rushed at him and hugged her arms around his neck, like she'd always wanted to do. You came.
I couldn't leave you.
She laughed. This feels like something out of a bad movie.
His chuckle was comforting. Yeah.
She slid off of him, serious, turned towards the back of the cave. It's here, she said. I can feel it. It's calling me.
Follow it, he said. Listen to it, and walk toward it.
She set off with purpose, directly for the back of the cave. The gloom was almost unbearable, but she just had to keep going. There was only one chance, one way. She had to get her body back.
They reached the back wall of the cave. Jack looked confused, or maybe that was his dragon host coming out.
I don't see anything, he said, pressing on the rock.
But Ember wasn't to be deterred. It's here, I know it. She kneeled, touching her hand to where the wall met the dirt floor. Right here. Beneath us.
Leave this to me, Jack said, brandishing his claws. One benefit of being in a dragon body, is being able to dig like a dragon.
Ember would have laughed, if it wasn't such a serious matter. Yes, it was almost time. She would know, soon, whether or not it was even possible. Could they knit back together, her and her body? If they could, would she go back to being a normal human?
Jack, or rather Gil, dove for the ground, tearing up the mud and stone like it was wet paper, flinging everywhere, nothing but a machine. She watched, directed a bit. To your left, a little more, yes, now straight down, around that big rock, and…
STOP.
It was like she'd hit pause. He shrunk back immediately, not even hesitating, not questioning her.
She pointed, with a shaky finger. Look, she said.
It was radiating cold, covered in black soot. Exposed to the air, steam was coming off of it. The corner of a block of ice, glowing slightly with ectoradiation and mixed with black ash.
And in that corner, retreating back into the secrets of the dirt, was, unmistakably, a lock of flowing red hair.
Her throat closed up and tears stung her eyes and she almost cried, except that Jack was there, and he was oh so carefully digging up the rest of the block and there she was, her body, third degree burns all down her side, matching the one she had sported on her ghostly form all these years, burned but intact, and her clothes burned off completely, and her hair with blood and soot in it.
It's me, she said, touching the ice block.
It's you, Jack whispered, almost in disbelief.
The moment for waiting was over. Get me out, she demanded. Melt it. Do something. I have to get back into my body.
Another benefit to being a dragon, Jack quipped with a grin. Fire breath. An inhale, and suddenly a stream of flames, melting the ice much more slowly than she would have liked.
Ember was standing behind Jack, sheltered from the heat, but even still, she could swear that she felt herself getting warmer. It's taking too long, she growled, picking up her guitar. With a flick of a switch and a strum, the songstress let off a fiery whirlwind, engulfing the rest of the block. Yes, definitely warm now. Her skin felt almost like it was crackling.
Stop, Crystal, stop! Jack shouted. If we melt her all the way –
If we melt ME all the way, she insisted.
You could die from the burn wounds, he said. We need to get you somewhere where you can wake up and go to a hospital. Not here, in a cave.
But she was impatient, and she didn't stop. I don't care, I don't care, she screamed. The fire died. There was a slight smell of burning hair. Too much, it had to be now. She flung her guitar across the room, dove at the pitiful, grey, shriveled body on the floor, intangible.
She didn't remember much of what happened after that. There was a feeling of being complete, and suddenly being both hot and cold and in pain and numb, and Jack was shouting at her, and Gil too, and having both of their voices come out of the same mouth was strange, and suddenly she felt like she was going to die for the second time.
Then, nothing.
Crystal woke up a few days after that, in a hospital in the Ghost Zone, surrounded by Jack and Shiva and the other wardens, and some of her Ghost Zone friends like Spectra and Kitty, and Skulker (who would not leave her alone like she wanted) and, infuriatingly, Danny and Sam and Tucker and their whole entourage of hybrids that had seemingly popped out of nowhere.
The first thing she said was, Am I alive? And everyone smiled at her, and they didn't need to say anything at all, because she could feel it in her fingertips that there was real blood there.
She was eighteen years old, just old enough to have graduated high school, and had her entire life back ahead of her, and the first thing she did as a human was break down and cry and cry and cry, and then laugh and laugh and laugh, and jump out of the hospital bed and rip out the cords and wires from her skin, and hug Jack's scaly dragon body like he was still Jack.
She returned to the human world with Danny and his gang, because they all seemed to know that she wasn't going to cause any trouble, even though she kept her guitar and it seemed to keep its powers, even if she couldn't use them as well.
Crystal started singing in clubs and worked as a waitress for a while, tried to find out what had happened to her parents (they were still alive, god bless them, and she turned up on their doorstep and they actually couldn't believe it, that she was there, and the three of them cried and laughed harder than she thought could have happened, explaining the whole thing to them when they got over the shock of seeing their only daughter risen from the grave) and was happy. It was easy to become famous, she thought, since all she had to do was claim that she was Ember McLain, which was true, with a major makeover, which was also true, and the record labels were all over her again.
But, even though she was living again and working on her dreams and hanging out with real, live humans for the first time in thirty years, something was missing.
She had an apartment in Amity Park, downtown, a few blocks away from the Manson Mansion. It was small, but she didn't need much, when she got the text on her cell phone.
Crystal, it said. It was from Danny. Get over to my house. Now. It's important.
He wasn't one for texting, usually, preferred to see people in person. Whatever it was, it needed attention immediately, and she dove out the door and ran over like her house was on fire, again.
She burst into the door to their makeshift command center, on the top floor, and almost tripped over Sam and Tucker, who were standing just inside.
What's going on? Is someone dead?
Danny had to chuckle at that. No more dead than I am.
Crystal pondered that for a moment, since Danny was sort of dead half the time and alive the rest of the time, but it didn't matter all that much in the end. Why am I here?
He appeared from out of the corner, the first time she had seen him since she'd woken up alive. For me, the familiar dragon said. For Jack.
She was confused, utterly baffled. Tell me what's going on, she demanded.
You'll see in a moment, Danny said, striding past her and getting in the elevator. Just wait here. I have to get it.
Jack nodded, and everyone else was smiling.
Guys, will you please stop being secretive, she groaned, crossing her arms. Honestly, she thought that this would be something more disastrous.
Sam walked up to her. What if we told you that we could bring Jack back?
Her world stopped for what seemed like forever. What? There were no other words to say.
The elevator made a pinging sound and opened. She turned and looked as Danny dragged a large, very strange looking object out. It looked like a large web of beads and feathers, but it was huge. Is that... ?
It's the Fenton Ghost Catcher, Danny said simply. It takes ghostly things and removes them from human things. We think, and here he pointed and Neil, off in the corner, that if we use it on Gildemeir, now with a gesture to the dragon in the other corner, that it will be able to separate Jack from him, since Jack is partially human.
She couldn't breathe. Her heart stopped. All she could do was look between Danny and Jack and everyone else.
We wanted you to be here, Sam said, coming up alongside of her and putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Since he's your friend, you know?
Crystal nodded dumbly, and that seemed to be good enough for everyone. It was suddenly a bustle of activity, Danny and Neil moving the Ghost Catcher to the center of the room, the girls and Tucker clearing everything out of the way, and Gil, just standing there, calmly watching. Well, no, it was probably Jack, watching, because she didn't think that Gil could be so calm.
You ready? Danny said, and even though it was addressed to her dragon friend, she still nodded.
Gil floated up into the air, and, with a growl, took off at top speed towards the strange, glowing netting. She looked away just as he was to reach it, and behind her eyelids she saw a bright white light, and there was a sound of energy moving through the room, and then she had been flung back into the desk and there were the noises of groaning and panic and two loud thunks.
It took everyone a minute to recover, but in her confused and overwhelmed state, Crystal's body had decided that it would be best not to move again, ever, at least not until she'd sorted everything out. She could make out the sounds of voices. Everyone okay? We're fine over here. Did it work? Crystal?
There was another hand on her shoulder. Male. Warm. Crystal?
The voice was familiar. Deep. Liquid. Her eyes fluttered open, and as her eyes focused, the first thing she saw was the dark blue eyes – not like Danny's, because his were too bright, too happy. The next thing was the strong jaw, holding more wisdom and experience than Danny's could, and then the short, cut back black hair, just like she remembered it, close to his head but sticking up in the strangest places, out of his face and as neatly coiffed as he could get it.
Jack?
He smiled. Hey. It's nice to see you again.
There were tears in her eyes and her heart felt like it was going to burst and she leapt off the ground, threw her arms around his neck. They fit like they always had, perfectly, and he stumbled back a few paces before he wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her into the air, spinning them both around as they laughed and cried and just held each other.
She wasn't aware of the other seven people in the room, one of them being a very relieved dragon, all watching and smiling and the girls dabbing at their eyes a bit. All she could see was Jack, her Jack, same as he was the day that he'd vanished, with his black leather jacket and white tank top and muddy jeans and even muddier sneakers that had somehow never been cleaned in the thirty years since he'd been gone. And then, just as he was about to put her down and she'd started to slide down his body, she locked her legs around his waist and kissed him like she'd wanted to since she was thirteen years old.
He didn't even seem surprised, just hefted her up closer to him, one hand underneath her, the other on the back of her neck, and kissed her back like he, too, had waited an eternity for the opportunity.
There was some murmuring from the others, and she heard the distinct sound of someone going intangible, and then there was only silence in the rest of the room, which was good, because Jack was suddenly shoving her backwards and her back hit the wall and he broke the kiss long enough to pull his jacket off, still somehow not dropping her, and she assumed it had something to do with the ghost powers that he could hold her up with just one hand and not seem to show any effort in doing so.
Crystal wasn't a virgin, not by a long shot, and hadn't been since she was fifteen, behind the bleachers with a boy who she'd been smoking pot with, a boy she'd had no feelings for, but had only agreed to sleep with because she'd not had the money for the drugs. She hadn't enjoyed herself very much, to be sure, but it had been worth it at the time, because taking a virgin's virginity was apparently enough of a payment to get her a whole year's worth of weed. She'd come home to find both Jack and Ted on her bed, disappointed in her for lowering herself to such a standard, and it had hurt to see the looks on their faces.
The next time she'd had sex after that was when she was drunk at a college party she'd successfully snuck into, and one of the college boys had seduced her in a drunken haze, and that time she had definitely enjoyed herself, because he'd been experienced with women and he knew things about her body that she hadn't taken the time to figure out yet, and that was her first orgasm, in some stranger's bedroom, while the thumping music and blaring lights came in from under the door.
Crystal wasn't shy about her body, or who she'd slept with, because she didn't think it was much of a problem. She always used a condom, she was on birth control, and you didn't have to be in love to have good sex with somebody. The only person she had ever been shy about was Jack, because he was the only guy whose opinion she cared about. Ted too, yes, but there had never been any sexual tension with Ted, and he was more like a brother to her anyway.
She wasn't sure when Jack had lost his virginity, but it had come up one day, a few months before her seventeenth birthday, and he said he had, with one of the girls on the soccer team that he'd been infatuated with since puberty. Crystal's heart had broken a little bit that day, which maybe proved that she had wanted more than just sex from a man, but she put off thinking about it until later.
Thirty years was plenty of time to think about it. Since becoming a ghost, she'd had her fair share of boyfriends, flings, learned a lot about just what kind of trouble and fun you could get into when you could make your hands glow and turn invisible and float while you were having sex with someone. She'd dated Skulker, for a while, and at the time it had been nice to be with a man who could change everything about himself on a moment's notice (although once she found out what exactly was behind the metal suit, she'd dropped him).
So no, Crystal was in no way a naïve virgin, so when Jack, who'd had thirty years to forget everything he'd learned as a teenager, started fumbling at the buttons on her shirt, she slapped his hand away and yanked off his tank top like it was on fire. No, she said. Phase it off.
The good thing about Jack was that he didn't ask questions, except when he really needed to, and he followed her order like there was nothing wrong with it. Maybe he was trying not to think about the fact that the love of his life had a lifetime more sexual experience than he did. Still, he successfully removed her shirt without tearing it or losing buttons or taking too much time, and at least with bra straps he'd had enough experience to get them off without any hesitation.
They spun around so fast that she was dizzy, and he'd dropped her on the desk she'd slammed into, hard and cold and covered with papers. She swept her arm around to clear it of pens, documents, the lamp, and then he was bent over her and kissing and licking and sucking on her nipples and even though he may not have been the best at it, she moaned and arched off the wood because it was him, her Jack, the man she'd never fallen out of love with, and if nothing else he was enthusiastic.
But there was only so much foreplay one could stand when one hadn't had sex in thirty years, it seemed, especially when that one had the sex drive of an eighteen year old male, and he had phased off his pants and her pants and his boxers and her panties not a minute later, and she propped herself up onto her shoulders to look at him, and god did he look good naked, the abs still there, the broad shoulders, and down further still he was hard as a rock, and thick, and long, and dripping with anticipation and maybe he wasn't the biggest she'd ever had, or the most knowledgable she'd ever had, but this was someone she would have waited for her entire life if she'd known that it had been meant to be. Crystal spread her legs, and it was obvious from that point that the ghost half in Jack was in control, because his eyes flashed blood red and his skin became electric and cold to the touch, and even though he didn't change, not all the way, the smouldering look in his eyes was a dead giveaway that he wanted nothing else than to give into instinct and take her.
She didn't want to wait, didn't want to give him the opportunity to lose momentum and ask her is this okay? Do you want this? She reached down, grabbed him right at the base, and as he shuddered from the sudden contact, pushed him inside of her a couple inches. Only a couple inches, because as soon as he'd breached her he'd slammed himself forward, and it hurt in the best way for only a moment, because there was nothing like the flicker of pain that came from sudden, rushed sex, when you weren't quite wet enough and the friction was fantastic.
She couldn't stay upright on her elbows for long, not with him so fast and hard, and her knowing just how to angle her hips and meet him as to get him to hit everywhere she wanted, and she writhed, back against the desk, feeling that familiar tension inside of her, Jack, Jack, she screamed, grabbing his wrists where they were attached quite permanently to her hips, because she needed something to hold onto, and the power radiating off of him making her palms tingle with energy.
Maybe he wasn't expecting her to say anything, or maybe he wasn't expecting her to react so strongly, but he grinned and pumped harder and then, inside of her, went utterly cold and she screamed his name again, eyes forced shut from the change because it was unexpected and fantastic, and when she could pry them open again his hair had gone snow white and his eyes were completely red and his skin was glowing and there was just a little bit of confusion on his face, like he didn't know why the urge to change had been so strong, but there was also immense satisfaction, the kind that you got when you gave in to such an intense instinct.
And she came once, and then twice, before he did, because she was still giving him breathless orders of how to move and where to rub, and suddenly he was hot inside her, and the energy was gone from him, and his hair and eyes were back to normal, and he was shaking as he tried to hold himself up, to keep from falling on her, because there was no bed that he could roll onto.
They looked at each other, because the shock was hitting them that, yes, it had finally happened, after all those years, and that now it was over, and real life was back. Her eyes were wet as she sat up and wrapped her arms around his sweaty shoulders.
You're real, she whispered.
Between pants, she swore she heard him chuckle. Yeah, he replied. I am.
He pulled himself off of her, which was sad, because suddenly she was cold and alone. She slid off the desk, chuckling a bit as her feet hit the floor, because she realized that neither of them had removed their shoes, and he was looking a little sheepish as he contemplated his socks.
I can't believe you're human again, Crystal said, because it was better than remaining in an awkward silence.
Funny, Jack said, as he picked up his clothes. I thought the same thing when you woke up in that hospital bed a few months ago. He held out her shirt. She glanced at it, took it, pulled it on haphazardly without bothering with her bra.
More silence.
So, what now? Crystal asked, as though they hadn't just had sex, as if things were back to normal, even though her stomach felt like it was tied up in knots.
Jack shrugged, his back to her, probably because he was blushing as he remembered what he'd done. I don't know. I can't go back to the Ghost Zone. I think I've worn out my welcome. I don't know if I can stay in the human world, though. I mean, I don't have anywhere to go right now. I don't have a home. My parents are dead.
Crystal cringed. She'd gone hunting for Ted and Jack's families after she'd been reunited with her own, just to see if they were still around. Ted's had been, but since Crystal knew he was dead, she didn't try to reconnect. And Jack's? Well, she'd found them both. Their headstones were near the one that they had made up for Jack when he'd gone missing. It seemed like losing their only child was too much for them, because they'd died a few months after.
Well, Crystal muttered, twiddling her thumbs as she hunted for her pants. You could always come stay with me.
More of that awkward silence. Crystal busied herself with removing fuzz from her clothes and making sure that the invisible wrinkles were out.
You'd do that? That would be okay? His tone of voice made him sound like a sad orphan child, not the wise and battle hardened man he'd been all these years, and certainly not like someone who had been sharing a consciousness with a five thousand year old dragon.
Of course. Crystal walked over, grabbed his hands. You're my friend. You're more than my friend, Jack.
I think that goes without saying, Jack said, with another chuckle. Considering what we just did, I think we've established that we're more than friends. He stepped closer to her, kissed her. She melted.
When he pulled back, his face seemed to glow, he was smiling so much. I love you, Crystal. I've loved you since high school.
Crystal giggled. Yeah. I know. I love you too.
She took it back. NOW his face seemed to glow, and he picked her up and spun her around again, this time without any of the tears and only laughter.
When they went downstairs a few minutes later, the six other teenagers looked up at them, inquisitively, curiously, and having assumed that the noises coming from upstairs were ghost rats and not their friends.
Everything okay? Chaiya asked, looking a little ill.
Yeah, Crystal said, holding Jack's hand. Everything's great.