Chapter 28:
Live & Let Fly


It was a good thing there was still twenty minutes until the next class.

"We go three days just fine, and, then we lose him twice, in one day?" Sam muttered to herself, angrily. She, Jazz, and Valerie were running around the school, again, trying to find her delusional almost-boyfriend. "DANNY!?" She called, again, slowing only to listen for a reply.


It was a good thing social studies was called off, with twenty minutes to go, because Les had needed all of it - And, then, some, if he was being honest with himself. - to process what he'd just done. He was currently hiding in the AV closet, waiting on second period to end, (so his friends could get their butts over there, already!) while, apparently, babysitting a delusional ghost.

He had already typed up an urgent text to the other Squad-members, completely ignoring the rule against phones during school hours, so all he had to do was press 'send', the second the bell rung. But, it was taking forever!

||I'm pretty sure classes have never been this long, before,|| He thought, as he watched the little ghost fly his little ghost-ice-sculptures around his little ghost-ice-castle.

Part of him was marveling at the craftsmanship, but the rest of him was still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that he had, actually, involved himself in a ghost-fight. Either way, he wasn't making much progress.

"Zhooom! Poosh! Bam! EEK! Mayday! Orange staple guns have the hippo in a headlock! Don't you touch my robot! YEE-HAW! Redwood pins the eagle to a carburetor!"

"Uhhhh-" Les mumbled, almost involuntarily. The little ghost looked at him, then smiled and handed him an icy space shuttle. The redhead examined it, turning it over in his hands. It wasn't nearly as cold as he'd expected it to be. And, it looked just like the real thing, but blue and more ghostly. It, just like the other ice-sculptures, gave off a pale, white, ghostly aura. A soft, green light glowed from the little rockets, and from somewhere within the center of the toy. He couldn't decide which word suited it better: 'incredible' or 'adorable'.

"Cocoa butter," Danny said, interrupting his thoughts and pointing to a button on the side. "Maltese acorns bid for the honeycomb crowns." He moved the taller boy's hands to sit the shuttle on the ground. "Cocoa butter," He repeated, pushing the toy closer to him and motioning to the little, blue circle, again.

Lester looked at the shuttle, then at the ghost, then back at the shuttle. Then, he pressed the button.

The green light at the heart of the toy began to pulse, and the thing he had previously thought to be one piece of ice sprung to life, as though it were mechanical. And, a closer look proved this to be the case.

Initially, it had seemed almost opaque, but, now that it was moving, he could see that it was made up of hundreds of tiny, nearly-translucent pieces. Watching through the semi-translucent hull, he could see all the tiny pieces working in perfect harmony. The green lights from the toy cast eerie glints, as the white light from the ceiling above them created beautiful shadows, both shining through the ice, growing darker with every piece they had to pass through.

||Did he build this? I know his parents and sister are supposed to be geniuses, but Danny's failing almost all of his classes. If he's this brilliant, why doesn't he get better grades? ...Unless... Children with troubled home-lives often find it difficult to focus in school. Maybe Mike was right about the Fentons. But, I sure hope not.||

He was shaken from this line of thinking, suddenly, when the little, green lights in the rockets (which he had initially assumed were for decoration,) ignited. Little, green, ectoplasmic flames pulsed from the bottom of the shuttle, and it drifted upwards, slowly, hovering just above the closet floor.

Lester stared, dumbly, as Danny reached into the pocket of thin air he had pulled the toys out of, producing what looked like an RC controller made of ice. The blue-eyed boy offered it to him, and Lester took it, uncertainly.

He looked between it and the ghost for a moment. Then, he pushed one of the buttons, and the ship twirled in place, slowly and gracefully. He did this several more times, then pushed another button. The rockets flared, slightly, propelling the tiny piece of machinery upwards, where it continued to float, the nose of the craft almost level with Les' chin. Pressing a third button caused an ectoplasm-green bubble to spread from the pulsing heart of the shuttle.

The bubble grew, passing over Lester, who gave a slight shiver, and Danny, who just smiled, contentedly. It finally stopped, when it hit the borders of the small closet, creating a shimmering, green glow on the walls, floor, and ceiling. And, suddenly, Lester found himself in a zero-gravity field.

He looked at Danny, floating in front of him. The boy smiled and threw his arms into the air, happily. "Maltese acorns bid for the honeycomb crowns." He repeated. He flapped his arms around, floating a little higher, and tipping to the side a bit. "Honeycomb crowns."

"Honeycomb crowns. Right," Lester replied, numbly. He pushed off the floor with his foot, gently, rising higher into the air. Then, he smiled. "...Best. Day. EVER!"


"I don't care what kind of laws there are against it, or what kind of damage it might do to your psyche, I am putting a tracking device on you," Jazz grumbled to her non-present brother, as she ran through the halls.

Then, she skidded to a halt and smacked herself on the forehead. "Tracking device. Duh." She pulled out her phone, dialing Tucker, for the second time that morning. "C'mon, c'mon," She pleaded, under her breath, bouncing in place, as she waited for him to pick up.


"Y'ello," Tucker answered his phone, cheerfully.

"Tucker! Is the BOO-merang still at your house?" Jazz screamed into his ear.

"Uh, yeah. Why?" He asked, tentatively, holding the phone back, for the sake of his hearing.

"DON'T ASK ME STUPID QUESTIONS! JUST TELL IT TO FIND DANNY AND THROW IT!"

"Okay, okay..." He walked over to the dresser he stored his ghost-tech in, careful not to wake the little 'princess' in his bean bag chair. Then, the implications of what Jazz had said hit him, and he dropped his phone.

"TUCKER?! TUCKER?!" Jazz's voice rang out from the tiny speakers. He slammed the drawer open and did as she'd ordered, not bothering to open the window. The stupidly-named ghost-detector crashed through the glass. Thankfully, though, Ellie slept like a comatose mountain.

||No. No, she really sleeps more like a volcano. If you wake her up, you're dead. But, thankfully, she's hard to wake up,|| Part of Tucker's brain commented. But, he was too busy to pay it any attention.

He snatched the phone back up, frantically. "Why do you need the BOO-merang to find Danny?" He squeaked, breathless, his eyes wide and panicked.

"...'Cause, we kinda lost him..."

"YOU LOST HIM!?"

"...Again..."

"'AGAIN'!? AS IN, 'MORE THAN ONCE', 'AGAIN'?!"


"Hello?" Lester answered his phone. Even though they couldn't see him, the two boys on the other end could tell he was smiling. Clark and Mikey stood, waiting for their tall friend in the Squad's predetermined meeting place.

"Les? Are you okay?" Mikey asked, tentatively, glancing at his dark-haired friend.

"Never better!" He replied, happily.

*Crash*

They heard a metallic clatter in the background.

"What are you doing?" Clark asked, incredulously.

"Guess."

"Excuse me?" Mikey deadpanned.

"G-U-E-S-S, guess. Guess what I'm doing."

"...Les, are you being overshadowed?" Mikey raised and eyebrow.

"That question is pointless to answer, because everyone knows that a ghost is never going to admit that they're overshadowing someone." It was Lester, alright. "And, even if they did, everyone would think they were joking. Now, guess."

*Crash*

"Um..." Clark started, looking to Mikey and scratching his head, as the metallic sound rang out, again. "Kicking the bucket?" He grinned at his own joke, as Mikey elbowed him, also grinning, despite himself. Then, the two froze, when Danny Fenton cackled, on the other end of the line.

"No," Les chuckled, uncharacteristically. "Well, yes, actually, but that's not the thing I was talking about. Guess, again!"

"...Is Danny with you?" Mikey asked, pointlessly, since he could clearly hear the delusional ghost's voice.

"Yeah! Guess what we're doing!

"Where are you?" Mikey pressed.

"Guess!"

"Flying kites, with a hobo! Marrying a witch to an antelope! I don't know! Where are you!?" Mikey finally shouted.

"We're in the AV closet, on the first floor, across from Jonesie's room!" Their friend beamed, sunshine leaking from his every syllable. "C'mere, quick! You gotta see this! Wait-" His voice got fainter, as they assumed he turned away from the phone. "Will the bubble pop, if we open the door?"

"Bubble?" The two geeks mouthed to each other.

"Coconut parsnips jumped in the lake with the magic horse-hairs," Danny replied.

"What?" Mikey squeaked.

"I have no idea. 'Polka-dots' means 'I'm thirsty', 'cocoa butter' means 'press this button', and 'honeycomb crowns' either means 'zero-gravity' or 'Look, Ma, I'm flyin''. I haven't figured it all out, yet. Just get over here!" Les rushed, before cutting the connection. The other two just stared at the phone for a moment, before rushing off towards the first floor. They only had ten minutes until their next class.


Lester shut his phone and turned to the little ghost floating next to him. "Hey, Danny, watch this!" He said, then proceeded to moon-walk across the ceiling.

"Coral fissures!" The boy with the bucket on his head cried, throwing his hands in the air and smiling.

"I know, right?" Lester smiled back.


Sam ran down the stairs, into the school's basement, hoping to find Danny down there. But, instead, she found Valerie.

"What are you doing!?" She asked, angrily, hands on her hips.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" The Huntress grunted, snarkily, putting down the heavy object she'd been carrying.

"It looks like you're reorganizing the school basement, when you're supposed to be helping us find Danny."

"I am helping find Danny. Boxy can sense him, in either form. And, what is Boxy attracted to?"

It dawned in Sam's eyes. "Boxes. Of course," She smacked herself in the forehead.

"Right. So, help me stack these boxes up," She said, gesturing to the pyramid of cardboard she'd created.

"Wait. Didn't you suck Boxy into the thermos?"

The huntress growled. "Yes. But, then that idiot, Dash, put his big, fat foot in my way, and I tripped and accidentally let the little box-freak loose, again." Sam tried to hide her mirth by grabbing a box and setting to work.


Mikey and Clark stood in the doorway of the small AV closet. Before them, Danny and Lester were hovering, dancing in the air. Danny had a bucket on his head, wearing it like a hat, while Lester sported another on his foot.

"What-" Mikey croaked. Lester saw them, flew down, and yanked them inside, shutting the door behind them.

"C'mon, guys! We only have-" He looked at his watch. "-seven more minutes of zero-G's, before P.E.!"


Jazz stood outside the school, watching the sky for her parents' ridiculous-but-useful invention. Then, a green and silver blur whizzed past her, crashing through the building's cellar doors. She followed, rushing through the now-splintered chunks of wood, into the basement of the school.


Sam nearly dropped the box she was carrying, as a familiar, Fenton creation whizzed by her head. Then, she nearly fell down, as another familiar, Fenton creation nearly crashed into her, chasing after it.

"Jazz?" She and Valerie asked. The redhead didn't bother to stop.

"FOLLOW THAT DANNY-TRACKER!" She screeched. Valerie looked at the goth girl, and the two shrugged to each other. The Huntress dropped her own cardboard cube, and the younger teens ran after the frantic bookworm.


The Geek Squad played zero-gravity with Danny, until they had exactly two minutes to get to the gym, agreeing that they really had to do this again, after class. (Especially, after Clark started whining that Lester got a longer turn.) The three mentally-stable boys somehow convinced Danny to clean up his toys, - which he then tossed back into the portal he'd opened in thin air that, apparently, only he had access to, - got the buckets off of his head and Les' foot, and then tugged him off towards their next class. If nobody else was going to watch out for the little ghost-boy, they would.

"I can't believe he devised a method to use ectoplasm as a power-source," Mikey muttered to his friends, excitedly, as the four walked down the hall, careful to make sure no one else could hear. It was all the shorter redhead could do to keep from skipping. Les nodded, still dumbstruck and grinning from ear to ear. Anyone who knew the boy would hardly recognize him.

"I can't believe how energy-efficient it is," Clark replied. He and Danny each had one hand of the smallest boy's ice-panda, and they were swinging it between them, as they walked. Mikey nodded back, smiling.

"...I can't believe I FLEW!" Lester whisper-screamed, throwing his arms up and hopping into the air, excitedly. He actually punched one of the ceiling tiles. The four boys coughed, as the sheet rock fell on them, then began dusting themselves off.

"Massachusetts. Purple tailor man. Crayon-nibbler," Danny said, earning the three geeks' attention, as they set to work dusting him off, as well. The boy pointed back down the hall, the way they had come. They looked, but saw nothing, and headed on, tugging the pathetically-confused, little ghost along with them.


"C'MON!" Jazz shouted to Sam and Valerie, running down the hall, still chasing the BOO-merang. "THIS WAY!"

Suddenly, the device took a sharp turn, crashing through the door of an AV closet. Jazz yanked the door opened and looked inside, Valerie and Sam looking over her shoulders. But, all they found was the BOO-merang, lying on the floor next to Danny's ice-dragon. Sam picked it up, and the three girls looked at each other, worriedly.


Alone, in the dark, school basement, someone gasped. "THE MOTHER-LOAD," The Box Ghost breathed, taking in the glorious surroundings, as he phased through the wall.

Before him were more boxes than he could have ever imagined. And, in the center of this wonderful place, beneath a beaming light-source hanging from the ceiling, was a majestic, cardboard pyramid, obviously crafted with delicate love and ca-

"OH MY -" Boxy screamed, flying down and scooping up a poor, dented box, that had obviously been cast down onto the cold, unforgiving concrete by some cruel monster. "YOU POOR, SWEET BABY! DON'T WORRY, DADDY'S HERE!" He soothed, caressing and petting the little cube in his arms, a few small tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

"WHAT SORT OF DESPICABLE DEMON WOULD DO SUCH A THING!?" He cried, before spotting a tiny, red light, blinking in the corner.

The box ghost flew closer, examining the object, the poor, abused, cardboard object still tucked safely under his arm. It was a small, metal, device. He recognized it as a video camera. No- a security camera. And, it was square.

The box ghost grinned, almost-menacingly, tiny fangs peeking out from beneath his gums. He reached towards the camera with one glowing, blue hand. He would find this demonic box-defiler. And, he would make them regret having ever been born.


"Jack, stop making so much noise, I'm trying to get Marty to sleep," Maddie said, as she reached into the cage and tucked a blanket around the sick ectopus.

"SORRY, MADS," Her husband replied, and tried to be more quiet, as he worked on welding together their latest invention. She felt of Marty's head and sighed, again, as the ghost sniffled. "Looks like you need more medicine," She said, picking up the bottle she had bought especially for the ectopus. "Honestly, I thought we had two bottles of cough syrup, in the upstairs cabinet. I wonder where they went to..."


AN: I know where they went to ;)

Hey, everybody! :)

I know this one's a little short, but everything else I could've put I didn't want happening until next chapter :)

And, seriously, this fic is going to pick up, again. Next chapter will have a whole bunch of action, the one after that is pretty-much normal, but the one after that starts the end-game for this fic. So, fasten your ecto-seatbelts, because you might lose your lunch over my terrible writing skills. But, hey, I'm getting better, right? :)

As always,
God bless, and I hope you enjoyed! :)
- Ellie