Thanks to Snickerer, YumeTakato, egyptianqueen777, wfea, Celestial Maiden Sukira, microwaved noodles, and Pterodactyl. Wow! So many people!
Chapter 4: Fracture
Dearest fellows, 'tis my sad task to inform you that Danny Phantom in fact belongs to one Mr. Hartman of Nick Studios, and not to this humble author, who could not aspire to hope for such imagination and talent. I hereby dedicate this chapter to the esteemed dPhantoMfreak, who can take full credit for one of Cathy's lines in it. She'll know which one I mean. I hope.
"Hey Maddie!" boomed Jack Fenton, bounding into the lab on Saturday morning, "Did you see we got a new magazine?"
"Yes, sweetie. I saw that last night," his wife replied, turning to face him and beaming. "There's a quiz in there I thought it might be fun to do."
"Really?" asked the giant man excitedly. "I love quizzes! Let's do this right now!"
He sat down on a stool and grabbed a pencil from somewhere on the desk. His wife came over and flipped to the page for him, leaning over his shoulder.
"Is Ghost Hunting Making You a Bad Parent?" Jack read. "Of course not! Our kids are carrying on the business!"
"One," Maddie continued. "'Can you name all your children's friends?'"
"Yep!" grinned Jack. This was easy. "Sam, Tucker, and Valerie. And Jazzy's friends are, um, ... Maddie, does she have friends?" He looked at his wife questioningly.
"Of course, honey. There's that blonde girl that she did that report with last September, and that Asian girl she ... you know," she said thoughtfully, "I can't name them either."
Jack checked NO glumly and then read out the next question. "'Does one or both of your children come home late without telling you where they'll be?' Not anymore!" He ticked off NO with a flourish.
"'Have you ever hit a child with one of your experiments?' I suppose that's a yes." She sighed. "'Have ghosts ever ruined a holiday?'"
"No," said Jack. "Danny almost did, though, remember?"
"Of course. I was so worried about him that night, and mad at Phantom at the same time. But what about that Christmas Jazz had to destroy our turkey?"
"A little bit of ectoplasmic contamination doesn't equal a ghost!" Jack objected. "It's still a no."
"And Independence Day when Jazz was twelve? That general you shot at?"
"All right," Jack admitted, red-faced. "But just that once."
The couple happily continued doing the quiz for several more minutes, then tallied their score.
"Twenty-one," announced Maddie. "Now what does it say...?" She ran her finger down the page. "'If you scored between twenty and twenty-five, you're Parenting Demons. You spend too much time in your lab and let your work take over the rest of your lives, sometimes literally. Your children never see you and you've never attended a school event without embarrassing them. You probably don't even consistently remember birthdays. You need to change your behaviour or you'll lose them forever.'"
"Nonsense! They love us and they always will! Our family is closer than ever because of ghosts!"
"What are you guys doing?" a tenor voice asked from near the ceiling. Maddie turned from where she was trying to calm her irate husband down and looked up at her son, who'd stuck his white-haired head through the ceiling. "Dad usually doesn't shout this much when he's inventing."
"We just finished a quiz, Danny," said Jack, rising from his stool. "In Ghost Hunting. It says we're terrible parents. We aren't, are we?"
"Are you kidding? You guys are awesome, even during that year you were trying to kill me..." Danny grinned as he let the rest of his body drop into the room. "They didn't have a question about that, did they?" He transformed back to his dark-haired human form, grabbed the magazine from the counter, and started reading. The longer he read, the more serious his expression became. Finally he looked up at his parents.
"This looks like it's been written just for you guys. I seriously doubt any other ghost-hunting family's going to answer YES to 'Have your children ever come home with mysterious bruises and blame it on ghosts?'"
"You're right!" Danny's father brightened. "There aren't even other ghost hunting families!"
"There aren't?" asked Danny, looking at his mother. This was news to him. In all of America, they were the only family that did this?
Maddie nodded. "There are a lot of teams and couples, you've met a few of them, but no, no families."
"Huh. Then this thing must really be directed at us." Danny began to feel very suspicious, and let his eyebrows narrow slightly.
Maddie took the magazine and shut it. "Nonsense, Danny. It's just a silly quiz. It doesn't mean anything. We're not taking it seriously, so neither should you." She paused and looked at him curiously. "Aren't you supposed to be meeting your friends at the mall?"
"Right!" Danny glanced at his watch. "Crud. That's the time?" Without another word, he went ghost and shot up through the ceiling and out of the building. On his way, he swore at himself, Geez, Fenton, you'd think you'd get the "on-time" thing right after sixteen years.
---
Twenty minutes later, after apologies from Danny for his lateness and the arrival of an out-of-breath Valerie, who'd had to convince her father that she actually had finished her homework, the four friends were lounging around at the food court, catching up on the week and poking fun at the passersby.
Sam pointed to a black-haired girl whose back was turned to them as she paid for her meal. The girl was dressed in a tight black top and matching capris with white accents that complimented her features nicely. "If she's going for the goth look," she told the rest of the group, "she's doing it all wrong."
The others nodded in agreement. Then the girl turned around and began scanning the tables for a place to sit, and her unnoticed watchers saw a very familiar white logo across her chest. The two girls also recognized her face and their jaws dropped. The boys, being boys, hadn't quite gotten that far yet.
"Isn't that Paulina?" asked Valerie. "What is she doing here? And why is she dressed like Danny?"
"Haven't you heard about the Official Danny Phantom Fan Club?" Sam asked incredulously.
"If that's what those cheerleaders were doing in the Burger last night, then yes," Val replied somewhat angrily. "I had to get them to stop squealing five times. They were scaring the other customers."
Paulina's expression brightened and she began moving away from the counter. Sam rolled her eyes at the girl's incessant "preppiness" and was about to make another disparaging comment when a lightly accented voice asked, "Can I sit here? There's nowhere else."
The foursome looked up at Paulina in surprise. This was completely uncharacteristic behaviour. Paulina was actually trying to be nice to them. Still, it was Paulina, which meant that she wanted something they weren't willing to give her.
"What about those tables over there?" Val asked pointedly and indicated several tables on the opposite side of the eating area. Paulina looked at them and shrugged innocently.
"There's all this goop and stuff on them. This table's clean."
"Yeah, and occupied by the 'losers,'" Sam pointed out.
"Thanks! I knew you'd understand." Paulina sat down, picked up her lo-fat wrap, and sat looking at her shocked tablemates for a moment before breaking the stony silence. "So I hear you guys are fans of Phantom too."
"Where'd you hear that?" asked Danny frantically. Sam stomped on his foot under the table.
"Sorry, Paulina, not really. No more than the rest of the town, at least," she told the cheerleader. Why the heck do you care, anyway?
"Really? Because I also heard that you have a box of photos of him, Gothica."
This time it was the goth's turn to panic. Even Danny didn't know about that.
Danny tried to stifle his laughter. "You collect pictures of Phantom?" he asked his friend.
"No! It's not like that, I swear!" Sam blushed. Disregarding how the Latina had found out about it, she had no right to bring it up in front of Danny. She glared across the table at Paulina, who simply batted her eyes at Tucker instead of making eye contact with the goth.
"I heard that Technogeek here has video footage too."
Tucker paled. How did she find out about Danny's training tapes?
"Where did you hear this stuff, Paulina?" Valerie asked, bringing the attention off Tucker tactfully. The African-American girl was the only one not too consumed by fear to ask the bold question without revealing something incriminating.
"Phantom's amigo told me," Paulina chirped. "He said Phantom wanted you guys in the Fan Club too."
"Really?" asked an agitated Danny. "What did this guy look like?" Which of my enemies would say something like that? Like joining a Fan Club is going to ruin my life in a way that kidnapping or physical pain won't
"Oh, you know, ghostly." She waved her hand breezily. He wouldn't be asking that if he wasn't a fan. I knew it!
"You didn't actually see this guy, did you?" Sam scoffed. "And you're prepared to trust him just like that?" Her tone indicated that she hadn't thought even Paulina could be that stupid.
"If Phantom trusts him, so do I," Paulina answered simply. "So, since you guys are obviously fans and Phantom wants you in, want to join the Fan Club? We've got all sorts of benefits and stuff."
"Well, sure, if Phantom says so," Sam said sarcastically, glancing over at Danny. Paulina brightened.
"Well, in that case you'll need these member kits." She pulled four plastic bags from her purse and tossed them on the table. "I also suggest you get some Phantomwear and maybe a makeover. Our next meeting's on Wednesday, and I expect to see you at all the fights before then. Now, I've got a manicure in ten minutes, so I've got to go. Buh-bye!"
She took her uneaten wrap and hurried off. All eyes at the table turned to the member kits on it in disbelief.
"Okay, I'm officially freaked out now." Danny's voice sounded hollow.
"Why?" asked Sam and Valerie together. "Those bags aren't that scary," the goth added.
"Some ghost tells Paulina he's my friend and that I want us to join her club, but she never sees him. Most ghosts aren't that smart. And this morning Mom and Dad did a quiz targeted at ghost hunting families, and it said they're terrible parents."
"They didn't believe it, did they?" asked Tucker.
"No, thank goodness. But the strange thing about that is the Fentons are the only family in the business."
"You're kidding," said Valerie. "That quiz was tailor-made for you guys?"
"I think so. Someone's targeting me."
"Us. Targeting us." Valerie's mouth had set into a scowl. "My box of old weapons showed up in my room last night, and I know it wasn't Dad or me," she explained.
"And one of my e-zines ran an article about tech making you an outcast," Tucker pitched in. "They never run that kind of stuff. Goes against the Technogeek culture."
"Do you think an edition of Cosmo open to an article about boyfriends could the part of this too?" Sam queried. "I thought it was just Mom again, but now..."
"With all this? Probably," Danny told her, his stomach dropping. "Okay, so that's Val, Tucker, Sam, Mom, Dad, and me. What ghost would target Team Phantom so specifically? And would have the resources to pull those magazine stunts?" A look of realization appeared on his face. "Vlad." The name hung in midair.
"We better find out if Jazz or Lancer have had anything suspicious happen," suggested Sam, "and warn them if they haven't."
"And we need to figure out the ulterior motive too," said Tucker. "Vlad never just does one thing at a time."
"I thought we'd gotten rid of him for good," groaned Danny, cradling his head in his hands.
"Vlad? Are you kidding? He's like a cold sore that never goes away." Sam laughed bitterly.
"And don't I know it." Danny stood up and pulled out his cellphone. "I'm calling Jazz. Back in a sec." He walked off to a quiet corner and the rest of the gang started brainstorming Vlad's motives.
---
The phone rang three times before a girl answered with a "Hello?"
"Hey! Jazz?"
"Danny!" the girl gasped. "Thank goodness you called! I've got a bone to pick with you and you're going to hear me out if it's the last thing you do."
Danny gulped. What on Earth had he done to get Jazz this angry several states away?
His irate older sister continued. "What is the big idea skipping classes more than ever? You know you can't afford to do that. You almost failed ninth grade, for heaven's sake! You're going to blow your cover, Danny, especially with that hand injury. Skulker's never done that much damage before..." She was drawing breath to continue the tirade when Danny managed to stammer an interruption.
"Woah, woah, what?"
"You know what I'm talking about, Danny. Don't play dumb with me." Jazz was practically growling.
Danny cringed slightly, but replied calmly. "No, Jazz, I don't. I've only missed two classes this week, I practically aced an essay, and Skulker hasn't even managed to hit me once. I'm fine, Jazz."
"But..." objected Jazz, stunned, "that e-mail..."
"What e-mail?" said Danny, in a low, ominous tone. This isn't good. Vlad's gotten to her.
"Thursday night, before the late patrol." Jazz's voice was quaking with confusion and anger. "You said ..."
"Everything I just told you. I really miss you here, Jazz. It's not the same without you trying to protect me all the time. But we kinda need your help with a ghost problem. It's Vlad."
"I should have known," Jazz spat. "What's he trying now?"
"Using psychology to break up the Team. Mom, Dad, Tucker, and Sam all got magazines yesterday with strange articles in them, Val's old weapons box mysteriously appeared in her room, and somebody told Paulina that Phantom wanted us in her stupid Fan Club." Danny sighed. "I guess we can add e-mails to the list too."
"And newspapers," the older Fenton stated. "Somebody tipped off the campus rag about our family. Now everyone thinks I'm a freak." Even a day later her voice was shaking with tears.
"Jazz. It's okay. I'm sure there are plenty of people who think it's cool. If anyone's a freak in our family, it's me," Danny said, trying to sound reassuring. "But we're going to get back at him, and that's where we need your help."
"Okay," she replied, sounds of rummaging in the background. "I'm going to write this down. Tell me everything."
Danny did, trying to look as casual as possible as he did so. He didn't think a sixteen-year-old kid having an incredibly serious and secretive conversation would remain unnoticed for long.
---
During the middle of Tucker's explanation of how Vlad wanted to use the Fan Club to make Danny popular, therefore alienating his friends and making Danny take part in the evil ways of the A-list, the halfa in question returned to the table. The tall raven-haired boy stared at his friend in disbelief for a moment, then sat down with a sigh.
"Well, Jazz had the worst of it. Vlad rewrote my e-mail to her, and got a nasty article published on campus. She's been worried sick since yesterday."
Everyone groaned. A worried Jazz was not a pretty sight, and usually one you tried to avoid as well, since she tried to get rid of the anxiety by doubling the amount of prying she did.
Danny continued. "I told her everything we know and she's going to go over it and get back to us tonight." Two years before he would have simply tracked Vlad down immediately, but his experience and support group had taught him restraint. Now he waited until he knew what any enemy, ghost or other, was actually trying to accomplish before going after them. This was also more effective since he generally knew their weaknesses by that point and could exploit them.
The quartet's attention at that moment was grabbed by the sight of William Lancer entering the food court bantering good-naturedly with a woman and smiling more than they'd ever seen him, even after a battle. Lancer seemed to be holding a real conversation and the woman seemed to actually be enjoying his company.
The teenagers exchanged glances. This was highly unusual behaviour. They hadn't thought that Lancer had friends outside of teaching and ghost hunting. A thought flickered through the mind of everyone but Danny, who'd met the woman during his tutoring session and mentioned her to the rest of the group: that must be Cathy.
The teens watched in fascination as the two adults grabbed trays and stood in line at the nearby sandwich counter. They casually edged their table closer to the couple to eavesdrop.
"I still don't understand what you see in plaid, you know." Cathy's tone was casual, but teasing at the same time.
"It's part of my heritage," Lancer defended stiffly.
"You're not Scottish."
"It's cheap, then."
"That's because everyone else knows better than to buy it, William." Cathy looked at Lancer pointedly. "Egg salad, please. He's paying."
"Corned beef," Lancer said to the cashier, digging out his wallet. "And two apple juices."
"Honestly," Cathy continued, "you can't keep living as if you were destitute, William. You can afford luxuries sometimes, you know. Like new shoes. And don't get me started on your eating habits again." She glared at him. Lancer glared back, though more for show than anything.
"My eating habits work. And I thought we'd had the food conversation last night."
Cathy rolled her eyes. "You were going to eat toast for dinner, William. Dry toast."
"It's good," Lancer protested. "And quick. You've seen the sorts of interruptions I have to deal with." He picked up his tray, which now held their order, and walked over to a table. So far he didn't seem to have noticed the younger half of Team Phantom watching him avidly. They hoped it stayed that way. Teasing Lancer later was going to be fun.
Unfortunately, Lancer and Cathy sat too far away for eavesdropping to still be practical, so the group had to content themselves with watching them from a distance. They could still follow the conversation from the adults' actions, though, and what it boiled down to was Cathy pestering Lancer about various parts of his lifestyle and Lancer protesting everything, but not very strongly.
"They're cute together," Valerie said as Cathy flicked a large crumb at the former teacher and he cringed.
"Yeah," Sam agreed. If she stays, she'll be good for him.
"Pity they're so clueless," remarked Tucker. "They both think they're the only one in love."
"True," Val said, catching Tucker's eye. "You'd think with all the cues they're sending each other..."
Sam nodded thoughtfully. She knew what the others were suggesting. They thought she wasn't aware of Danny's interest in her. Oh, she was. Very much aware. It was Danny who was having problems seeing her interest in him.
Danny was also aware of what Valerie and Tucker were trying to suggest. Sure, he was interested in Sam, romantically, but she didn't return the feelings. Besides, she belonged with some hot gothic guy, not clumsy, best friend Danny Fenton.
Danny didn't pay as much attention to the older couple currently flirting with each other on the other side of the cafeteria as his friends did. He'd had the chance to watch Cathy in action on Thursday night, and it was obvious that she cared about how Lancer was treating himself. It was also obvious that Lancer was infatuated enough with the woman to listen to her and try to please her. What wasn't obvious was why neither adult noticed the other's affection. He shook his head slightly, and tried to tune out the not-so-subtle teasing that was being directed his way.
Eventually watching Lancer got boring, and the four friends decided to spend the next part of their afternoon poking fun at the merchandise at the Ghost Zone store. It was both useful and interesting to see what new items were in stock, and much too fun to act out quiet battle scenes using the dolls. Besides, if they were joining Danny's fan club, and Paulina had smoothly left them little choice in the matter, then they'd need to have at least a couple tokens of their support for the local hero.
After dumping his garbage in a receptacle, Danny started following his friends out of the food court. He had the presence of mind to walk catch Lancer's eye and pointedly mime "call me" as he did so. Lancer nodded, briefly, then refocused on Cathy, and Danny moved on to the rest of the mall.
---
Several hours later, Cathy had finished shopping for Lancer, and the two friends had made it back to Cathy's car with their bags. Cathy unlocked the trunk, placed the three bags she held inside, then put Lancer's two beside them, making sure everything was stable. She was just moving to shut the trunk again when a sharp cry came from the passenger's side and the car shook briefly as something heavy hit it. Immediately worried about her companion, she left the lid of the trunk as it was and moved around to see what was going on.
William Lancer was slumped against the sedan, one hand out for support and the other raised to his forehead as if to massage a headache. He was grimacing in pain.
Concerned, Cathy hurried over to him to comfort and steady him. A second or so later, though, just as she was approaching him, he suddenly relaxed and pinched the bridge of his nose in an attempt to clear his head. Cathy watched him, puzzled, then, when he seemed aware of his surroundings again a moment later, asked, "William? Are you all right?"
"I'm fine," the man grunted. He managed to open the front door and slip inside before Cathy could get out another question. She sighed, walked around to the driver's door, closing the trunk on the way, and sat down beside him.
"You're not fine," she told him firmly. "You're still shaking, and most people don't get sudden bursts of pain like that. I'm taking you to the hospital." She placed the key in the ignition to emphasize her point.
"No!" Lancer exclaimed. "No, no hospital. No need."
"Then what? You'd better have a good explanation..."
Lancer leaned back in his seat so that he was staring up at the roof of the vehicle. After a moment, he sighed. "I was having a vision."
"A vision?" Cathy repeated, incredulously.
"Yes. It happens sometimes. Really, it's nothing to worry about." Lancer kept his voice carefully flat.
"You're telling me that on top of everything else you're psychic?" Cathy clarified, looking over at him.
Lancer sighed again and continued to stare at the ceiling. "Basically, yes."
Cathy rallied her nerves and managed to respond with curiosity. "Sounds like an interesting power."
Lancer dropped his gaze and turned to look at Cathy. "It's not a power," he told her. "I've been getting flashes of things since childhood."
"Honestly?" Cathy's face registered shock. For one of Lancer's closest friends growing up, she hadn't had any suspicion of this. "Childhood?"
"Yeah. You remember those recurring dreams I used to have? And how I always knew what homework to do even if I was absent? Or when Kraft was going to be around the corner?"
Cathy nodded, intrigued.
"I didn't have any idea about it until this spring, about the time of the reunion," Lancer continued. "And before you ask, I don't have control over what I see, or when, so you're not getting lottery numbers or anything."
Cathy snorted, amused that he knew her well enough to know she'd ask. She started the engine and pulled out of the parking stall.
"So, what did you see, just now?" she asked, once they were smoothly on their way back to Lancer's apartment.
"I was running." Lancer's voice sounded far off and thoughtful. "I don't know where, or why, but I know that if I wasn't fast enough, I was going to lose something forever."
Cathy considered that for a moment before acknowledging, "Sounds pretty vague."
"They always are," Lancer replied sadly, "and they never make sense until after the fact, or during. I don't even get enough information to form a plan."
"So, basically, it's cool, but utterly useless and as annoying as anything," Cathy remarked dryly, trying to cheer her companion up a little.
Lancer chuckled. "I think you hit it dead on," he told her.
"Great," Cathy remarked. "So... you said you only found out this spring. What happened?"
Lancer groaned. He'd known she was going to start prying again as soon as he opened his mouth, and he knew his friend well enough to know she wasn't about to let things like this go. He made himself comfortable in the passenger's seat, and started talking. Cathy listened with interest the rest of the drive.