Disclaimer: I wish I wish I owned Danny Phantom! Desiree: -turns me into Butch Hartman- AHHHHHHHHH! CHANGE ME BACK CHANGE ME BACK! -is changed back-
We haven't updated in forever simply because we both went "duhhhhhhh" then he messaged me and was like, "We have a fanfiction!" which made me go "OH YEAH" and so here you go.
Tristan finished folding up the last of the laundry. Thankfully, he had the next couple of days off at the firm so he could get all of this stuff done. He still needed to mow both yards. That reminds me; I need to get some more gas. Tristan was quite aware by now that if his dad said he would get around to it, it would take close to a month. Hopefully, we won't have to pay another 150 dollars to have the lawn mowed again because we waited too long.
Tristan heard a knock on the door. He felt both anticipation and dread. He opened the door, not sure what he was going to find. A black teenager with glasses, a stupid hat, and an electronic device in his hand was standing there. "If you're here to scream at me on Samantha's behalf, don't bother." Tristan cut him off before he could speak. "Besides, I already have a good idea of what she wants to say to me."
"Wow, it's nice to see you too." Tucker replied a bit dryly. "No, I just decided to stop by."
"All right, come in; just don't wake up my Mom." Tristan replied. He didn't quite trust Tucker yet. Not all the way. He was still a friend of Sam, and he pretty much feared the Goth.. "So what do you want?"
"Jeez, I'm trying to be nice here!" Tucker protested, holding up his hands in surrender. "You don't need to act so hostile."
"Sorry, old habit." Tristan admitted. "When you're in my position, you don't trust people easily."
"Hey, you're talking to a techno-geek that spends half his free time at school in his locker." Tucker sighed.
"Well, that's one thing I can't relate to; I was too fat to stuff in a locker." Tristan admitted.
"Got to warn you, though, Sam is out for blood." Tucker warned him. "She's still ranting to us about what a sexist pig you are."
"That's what I figured." Tristan shrugged. "There's someone on one of the forums of my book ranting on and on and on about what a horrible person I am."
"How do you know it's Sam?" Tucker wondered.
Tristan pretended to think, stroking an imaginary beard. "Let's see; her name is Gothgirl-93, she just joined up a couple days ago, she says she's an 'ultra-recyclo-vegetarian', which sounds like a fancy word for vegan, and promises that she's going to and I quote 'stick her combat boot so far up his ass his brains with splatter, assuming he has any'. Wasn't that difficult to put two and two together,"
"Yep, sounds like Sam." Tucker admitted with a small chuckle. "I must admit, I'm impressed. Not many people can take her on like that and win." Tucker sometimes wanted to argue with her as well, but he was too afraid to.
"Well, she was mistaken." Tristan replied. "She only knows the politically correct version of history that they seem to be teaching in schools everywhere now, was expressing a simplistic point of view, and I decided to try and broaden her mind a little bit. That reminds me: I should have told her that Carbon Dioxide is a naturally occurring substance, not a pollutant, and that it's the plant equivalent of oxygen."
"Dude, where do you learn all this stuff?" Tucker wondered.
"I read articles, read books, look at some of these sites." Tristan replied. "I'd like to know at least something about what I'm arguing about. I came up with ideas that nobody in my environmental science even heard of. Most of them have never heard of oil shale, breeder reactors, the medieval warm period, and so on."
"Uh… Tristan… I've never heard of any of those." Tucker pointed out.
"Well, oil shale is an unconventional oil supply." Tristan explained. This was where he was truly in his element. "Well, technically, it's Kerogen, organic matter trapped in the rock that we can extract and then convert into oil. The largest source is the Green River Formation, found in Colorado, Wyoming, and Utah. It is conservatively estimated to have 1.5 trillion barrels of oil, enough to keep us supplied at current rates of consumption for 214 years. This, I believe, is a low estimate, since our tendency is to underestimate reserves, and some parts of the formation are not well explored. We've known about shale oil for some time, ever since…"
Tucker was beginning to tune him out. This was kind of interesting at first, but now Tristan was starting to sound like Mr. Lancer. He leaned his head to the side, supporting it with his hand. He didn't seem to notice, continuing to talk about the topic, not seeing that Tucker had lost his interest. Tucker looked at his cell phone to see what time it is.
"Well, that's the basics of oil shale." Tristan finished. "There's obviously more detail and more to the history, but some parts of it I can't remember off the top of my head. Interested to know about breeder reactors?"
"Maybe another time, Tristan," Tucker assured him. He could barely tolerate what Tristan's history lesson on oil shale told him. Well, the few parts he actually paid some attention to. "Anyway, I just wanted to congratulate you on doing what few have ever dared to do."
"No offense, but she doesn't seem like someone who's real tolerant of views that differ from her own." Tristan scratched his head. "I know I shouldn't say this, I know you're friends with her, but that's the impression I've gotten."
"I'd appreciate if you didn't attack Sam too much; she's one of my best friends." Tucker told him. Still, he knew that Tristan's impression was pretty accurate. He remember numerous occasions where Sam criticized Danny for using his ghost powers to get back at Dash and other bullies, but asked him to destroy what she saw an environmentally unfriendly trucks.
"Fair enough," Tristan walked to the refrigerator, taking out a can of soda. "Do you want anything? We have Pepsi, Diet Pepsi, milk, and orange juice."
"I'll… have a Pepsi." Tucker responded. He was not prepared as Tristan tossed him one, nearly dropping it. "So do you have any video games?"
"I have a Playstation 2 and about a dozen games for it." Tristan informed. "I even have a few PS1 games. I know it's primitive, but I still enjoy them, particularly the Crash Bandicoot and Spyro games."
The second Tristan moved to show him, Tucker only had to take a glance to notice that the older male was limping. Didn't look like a serious limp, but he was still favoring his right leg.
"Dude, what happened to your leg?" Tucker asked, moving a hand towards said leg.
"Honestly, no idea." Tristan admitted. "Last night, when I was about to go to sleep, I felt this sudden pain on the back of my leg. I went into the bathroom and I saw a burn on it. No idea where it came from; I haven't bumped into any hot substances recently."
I've got a good guess. Tucker thought with a small scowl. If Danny kept this up, there was always the possibility of his identity being exposed. Tucker looked at the Phantom Forum from time to time, which was started by Paulina, and some people even started writing stories about Danny Phantom. Thankfully, they were hugely inaccurate, which meant Danny's identity was safe.
Tristan walked slowly to his room, his limp still apparent as Tucker followed. It wasn't exactly what many would call clean, but still looked better than Tucker's room.
"Any of these games grab your attention?" Tristan asked.
"Digimon world?" Tucker exclaimed in astonishment. "Wow, you really do have old games!"
"They may be old, but I still like him." Tristan raised his hands defensively.
"So… how are things with you and Jazz?" Tucker asked.
"They're going pretty well so far." Tristan smiled. "She hasn't hit me, she hasn't attacked me, so pretty good."
"That's how you define good?" Tucker wondered, a bit taken back. He got angry at Sam because of what she said. Does he know this from more than just reading?
"I really like her; she's a great girl." Tristan informed. He had the suspicion that despite his protests to the contrary, Tucker was here to find out what kind of person he was. He wasn't used to being on the receiving end of something like this. "She's smart, beautiful, and has a great smile." Plus, she isn't afraid of me. I wish that was seen more often.
"So what have you done so far?" Tucker smirked.
"Tucker!" Tristan exclaimed. "Look, that's between me and Jazz, ok?"
"Ok, I get it." Tucker sighed. Inwardly, though, his respect for Tristan just went up. He didn't seem like the type of person who bragged about everything he'd done with a girl. "Hey, you have Grand Theft Auto: Vice City! Mind if I play it for a while? My Playstation 3 doesn't let me use old disks."
"Sure, have fun." Tristan told him. "Just so you know, though, Jazz is coming over in about 90 minutes."
"All right, I'll be out of your hair before that." Tucker laughed. "This stuff may look primitive, but it's still challenging. I've never managed to complete the whole game."
"Neither have I." Tristan stated. "The most I've gotten is around 82 percent." Tristan wandered around, picking up a few things out of his room while Tucker enjoyed running people over as Tommy Vercetti.
Tucker had to admit, Tristan was weird, eccentric, and could be a real pain, and yet… he was a decent man and genuinely cared for Jazz. For what it's worth, buddy, you've won my approval, Tucker thought.
"I must admit, I've never been inside your dorm before." Tristan stated, looking around. He had walked her there, but had never actually gone inside until now. They had gone bowling yet again. Both of them were really starting to improve. They could even play without the bumpers now, even though without them, they rarely got a score about 50. Tristan and Jazz both had some good laughs at each other.
"So what do you think?" Jazz wondered.
"Definitely cleaner than my room, that's for sure." Tristan joked. "Of course, maybe you're just not as lazy as I am."
"Well, I have to pick up most of the stuff around here." Jazz informed. "Emma never seems to get around to it, the lazy bum. She does pay for pizza and Chinese a lot, so I guess she's okay."
"Speaking of Emma, where is she?" Tristan inquired.
"She's out with her boyfriend." Jazz responded. "She won't be back for at least another hour." They were currently sitting on her bed, arms wrapped around each other.
"Really? By the way, I'm already planning a new story I hope to get published." Tristan smiled. Jazz sighed in disappointment; this wasn't exactly the plan. "I'm planning a character at the moment. She's smart… and beautiful… and special." Tristan leaned down and planted soft kisses on her neck, going down her collarbone.
"Really?" Jazz smiled, giggling slightly. Admittedly, this wasn't the conventional form of romance, but she knew what he was attempting. Least he wasn't totally avoiding romance like before. "And just who would this be?"
"She's based on someone who means a great deal to me." Tristan pulled her into his lap, making her giggle more. "I think you know who it is." He kissed her on each of her eyelids. Jazz looked into his eyes, getting lost inside them. She wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him tightly, not wanting to let go.
"Yes, I think I do." Jazz chuckled. I love being around him; I don't know how I ever survived without him.
Tristan ran his hand through her hair, hoping not to get his hand tangled in it. "You know, Jasmine, I have a confession to make. Well, two confessions, actually."
"Okay, tell me." Jazz requested.
"The first one is something I should have mentioned some time ago." Jazz was starting to get nervous. Was Tristan breaking up with her? "I… I have a learning disability."
"Tristan, I hate to break this to you, but I already suspected as much." Jazz admitted. Okay, how did they constantly jump from romance to everyday conversation then repeat? It was almost annoying, but he was a sweetheart either way. Guess she should get used to it. So far, she had kept it from Emma. She wasn't 100 percent sure and didn't want to spread anything about him. "Obsessive interests, difficulty with social interaction, hypersensitivity to taste…Asperger Syndrome?"
"Yes; I was diagnosed when I was 14." Tristan admitted. Hopefully her reaction wouldn't be similar to others'. In the past, he had told others, hoping for some understanding, but the general reaction was that they considered him weird and distanced themselves from him. "I had my IQ tested too."
"And what was it?" Jazz asked in slight interest.
"102." Tristan admitted.
"No way!" Jazz exclaimed. "I'm sure it's higher than that. Some of this stuff you tell me I don't even know."
"To be fair, I was paying more attention to the cute grad student than the actual test." Tristan chuckled. Jazz hit him in the shoulder. "Hey, I was 14! Cut me a bit of slack, will you? That was before I met you, and you are obviously much cuter than she was."
"Pervert!" Jazz shook her head. Tristan kissed her lips softly, then each of her cheeks and her forehead. "But your my perv I guess. My sweet perv."
"And my second confession…" Tristan began and then hesitated. Just spit it out, you wimp! "I love you, Jasmine."
"Wow, you love me?" Jazz's eyes widened. Did she really hear that?
"Yes." Tristan admitted, hoping he didn't say the wrong thing. Please don't tell me I've ruined the only decent relationship I've had.
"I love you too, Tristan!" Jazz exclaimed, hugging him tightly to the point where he was struggling to get air. "You've made me a happy woman!"
"Well, if you love me… you'll forgive me for doing this." Tristan laughed. Before Jazz could ask what he meant, he started tickling her. She fell onto the bed, laughing, squirming around, trying to get away from him.
"I'm going to… ha ha ha… kill you for this!" Jazz laughed. She finally broke away and started tickling him, knocking him onto the bed. "Payback time!"
"Oh, crap!" Tristan exclaimed, now on the receiving end. He had the weakness of being a very ticklish person. However, he was stronger than she was and pinned her wrists down, kissing her passionately. All thoughts of revenge forgotten, she kissed back, their tongues exploring. Jazz moaned softly, feeling almost lightheaded. One of her hands was tangled in her hair, the other rubbing his back.
"You should have told me you were going to have him over," a voice said behind them. They immediately broke apart, Tristan making an excellent impression of a tomato.
"You're home early?" Jazz managed to gasp out, scooting out from underneath Tristan.
"Yeah, Derek and I had a fight and I decided to come back." Emma explained before a pervert-ish grin appeared on her lips. "I must admit, I wasn't expecting this! Next time, just hang a tie on the door." Tristan was stammering, unable to gain his voice.
"We weren't sleeping with each other." Jazz protested, trying to save her boyfriend from further embarrassment. However, she had to admit that the thought was in the back of her mind. It almost intimidated her to think that Tristan could have been thinking that too.
"Not what it looked like to me," Emma chuckled. "How else do you explain you two on the bed, wrestling with each other?"
"I didn't come here to sleep with her!" Tristan protested. "I've never seen her dorm before from the inside!"
"Yeah, sure, Tristan," Emma laughed.
Well, this definitely killed the mood. Jazz thought. "Ok, Emma, enough." She stated. "I know you have a perverted mind, but not all of us do."
"I thought you were staying at your parent's house tonight." Emma wondered.
"Oh, yeah, I told my parents I was staying there for the night." Jazz remembered. I really seem to have my head in the clouds. I just wish meeting my parents went better than it did.
"I can drive you there if you want." Tristan offered. Thankfully, the money he was making on his book sales had really boosted his income, allowing him to repair the car without undue trouble. He really needed to make an escape from this situation. This is not how he expected to spend his day, although he was at least able to see Jazz.
"Sure, I'll let you give me a ride." Jazz replied, sending a warning glance to Emma, who in return, immaturely made kissy noises. Rolling her eyes, she grabbed Tristan's hand and they walked out to the car together. The whole trip, she felt like she was floating in the clouds. He loves me! He really loves me!
"Learn how to drive, you moron!" Tristan cursed when he had to swerve out of the way of a car that didn't leave enough time to pass. He felt like saying something far more potent, but wanted to restrain himself when he was near Jazz. After what seemed all too short a time, they got to Fenton Works. Both of them got out.
"I'll see you soon." Jazz promised him, giving him a last passionate kiss. He wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled into him. Reluctantly, they let each other go. She waved at him as he drove off. She didn't feel the ground even once as she walked home.
She opened the door, expecting to see one of her family members greeting her. However, they were strangely absent. The reason she gave Emma was that she frequently felt homesick and needed to be reminded of her family. However, the real reason was that she constantly worried about her brother. His powers had grown greatly, enough to defeat almost any enemy, but she couldn't help herself.
She looked around. So far, the house was empty. That is, until she saw Maddie in the kitchen. Jazz expected her to be working on one of their various devices to catch ghosts (which she sometimes quietly sabotaged when she felt it would detect Danny. Even their ignorance couldn't last forever.) Maddie turned around, and Jazz saw that she was not wearing her customary goggles. Okay, this doesn't look good. Jazz thought to herself.
"Jasmine, we need to talk." Maddie informed her.
"Sure, mom, what is it?" Jazz had a sinking feeling about this.
"It's about Tristan." Maddie sighed. "Both your father and I agree that you shouldn't see him anymore."
"Damn it, mom, there's nothing wrong with him!" Jazz exclaimed. Maddie knew she was angry; Jazz rarely swore. "He's a great guy! He's been wonderful to me!" Jazz knew he was kind of strange by most people's standards, but she hoped her mom would know better. Clearly, she was wrong.
"I just have a bad feeling about him, sweetie." Maddie didn't want Jazz to make the same mistake she did as a young woman.
"Mom, I'm an adult and responsible enough to decide who I want to date." Jazz did her best to reign in her temper, but it wasn't easy.
"You're brilliant, sweetie, but you're still young. I've known girls about your age who fell for these kind of boys, who thought they were in love, and who ended up getting their hearts broken. Just trust me on this, please!"
"Fine, can you give me any reason, any reason at all, that I shouldn't see him?" Jazz glared.
Maddie sighed to herself. Could she give the full reason, tell her exactly what Tristan was? "Just trust me; he's not the kind of person you think he is. Sam has already ranted to me. Danny doesn't like him, either, and both of them are good judges of character." Sam's exact words to describe were "A chauvinist who only sees woman as objects. He tore into me just for believing in equality." She ranted for a lot longer than that, including colorful language that Maddie didn't expect from her, but that was the gist of what she said.
"Mom, Sam is angry because Tristan doesn't agree with something she feels passionate about and lost an argument to him." Jazz was slightly disturbed at the kind of vindictiveness she was showing towards Tristan. She knew Sam had a darker side to her, but what she was doing was uncalled for. How dare she do this to the man I love?
"She could be right about Tristan." Maddie warned. "Considering who his… look, I'm just trying to protect you, sweetie."
"I'm not about to stop seeing him because you have a bad feeling." Jazz interjected, wondering what her mom was about to say before she caught herself. "He's one of the best people I've met. He's not perfect, but no one is. He's been respectful, he's interesting, he's smart, and cares about what I have to say." Admittedly, they had gotten into debates with her psychology textbook, as Tristan disagreed with what it said, but while she got a bit annoyed, it impressed her that he was able to think that way.
"Look, Jazz. If you have any kind of bad feeling about him, anything, call me. I don't care if it's during the middle of the night." Maddie did what she thought she would never do again: pray.
"Okay, Mom, but it's a waste of time. Besides, I'm legally an adult and I'm quite positive that I'm in love with him," Jazz smiled dreamily to herself. She knew it had only been a short time, but she couldn't help herself. She loved him and he loved her.
"Just be careful, sweetie. I love you." Maddie looked into her daughter's eyes.
"I love you too, mom." Jazz hugged her for several seconds. She heard her cell phone buzz. "Oh, it's Tristan! Hi, it's great to hear from you!" She walked off to where Maddie was unable to overhear the conversation.
After she left, Danny walked into the room. "Weren't able to convince her, huh?" Danny sighed; he shared his parent's feelings about Tristan.
"Danny, remember, keep an eye on him." Maddie insisted.
"I know; Dad already lectured me about it." Danny replied. That wasn't the only thing. He promised Danny 50 dollars per day he spied on him. And being Danny Phantom makes it so much easier. Can't believe Tucker's starting to hang out with him now.
"Thanks, Danny."
"Oh, Danny, good news!" Jack exclaimed.
"Another ghost invention?" He wondered. This always made him nervous, but at least it told him what to look out for when his parents were on patrol.
"Even better; I now have a Tristan action figure!" Jack laughed, holding a plastic toy in his hand. He pulled out another one, one of himself. "'You can't stop me, fool! Jazz is mine and soon the whole town will be mine!' 'Think again, boy! You'll have to go through Jack Fenton first!" He pretended to have a fist fight between the two action figures. It didn't take long for the Tristan action figure to be thrown back into one of his pockets. "Ha ha, once again, I am victorious!"
Danny shook his head and walked away. Only his dad would vent concern through an action figure. He was feeling very frustrated. Why couldn't Jazz see what was right in front of her face? "I need something to take this out on." He growled to himself.
"I am the Box Ghost!" He heard a voice exclaim behind him.
Hello, misplaced aggression. Danny thought, transforming into Phantom.