A/N Well, not only did college prep get in the way of updating this story, but so did writer's block . However, no need to worry, this story is not dead and inspiration has bloomed once more.

Disclaimer: I do not own Jackie Chan Adventures. I only own my OFC, Macey Chabert. I also do not own any song lyrics captioned prior to each chapter. All songs belong to their designated artists, respectively.

"Her dreams were full of dreams like leaves in the wind

That were scattered to the edges of the world and back again

Oh, there's more to me than you can see from here, my friends

Here there are no why's

So why do you pretend?

I hear my critic laugh, and he's my only friend"-

Spacehog, "Cruel to Be Kind."

Chapter 42: Armor of the Gods (s2 ep8 part 2)

"MY JACKIE CHAN ADVENTURES"

BY: MACEY RENEE CHABERT, NEW YORK JOURNALIST AND NON-FICTION WRITER

UP FOR EDITING

"Ever since I entered Jackie Chan's world, things have definitely not been the same, and that's not necessarily a bad thing. I've learned a lot about Jackie Chan himself, and, with our growing friendship, a lot about myself, too. If there's one thing Chan has taught me, is that there's more to everyone than meets the eye, that there's more to being a 'legendary kung fu artist' than just boxing and punching bags. It's not exactly The Karate Kid. In fact, it's much better than the 1984 martial arts film. Chan and his niece, Jade, have helped me become more responsible, patient, honest, kind, and to embrace life more than ever before. And that, I can say, is-"

"Jade!" Uncle's screaming, which, apparently, had been non-stop since the previous night, came from the other side of the apartment. "TV is too loud!"

I heard Jade sigh, then, a beat later, the volume on whatever cartoon she'd been watching turned down a few notches until it became a soft, vibratey-hum.

A pause, then: "STILL TOO LOUD!"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" I spun my chair around, glaring. "I can barely freakin' hear it!"

"I can hear the electricity in the wires!" Uncle hollered, the whiny, demanding note in his voice not unlike that of a 3-year-old boy in my neighborhood whom I'd used to babysit in frequently high school. "UNPLUG!"

Jade sighed again, louder this time, as if she were making sure everyone in the house could hear her inconvenience. "I wish there was a way to unplug Uncle…"

I stepped out of the chair and poked my head into the living room. "Everything okay in there?"

Jade gave me an irked look from her spot on the sofa. "What do you think?"

I smiled through a grimace. "That's what I thought...Hey, do you want anything to eat? I'm about to make some lunch before I get back to work."

At the mention of food, Jade perked up. "Do you have sandwiches?"

I laughed. "I can make some."

"Cool!" This offer, in retrospect, seemed to turn Jade's entire day around, regardless of last night's events. A sudden nostalgic punch to my gut hit me, recalling when I was a little kid and small things like that made my day.

"I'll make turkey-and-cheese," I promised her, turning to go into the kitchen.

Jade grinned at me, giving an enthusiastic thumbs up, then retaliated her attention back to the TV.

Just as I stepped over the threshold of the kitchen, Jade yelled, "Hey Macey!"

I peeked back into the living room again. "Yes?"

Jade bounced up and down on the sofa, the springs squeaking from the movement. "Am I ever mentioned in your, you know...journals, or whatever?"

"You mean, my columns?" She nodded. "Of course! How could I leave you out?"

Jade broke into a grin and picked up the remote, yawning and flipping through the channels. "Don't forget to cut the crust off!" she added, her gaze not moving from the TV screen.

I gave her a reassuring thumbs up and went back into the kitchen, again, and pulled out the bag of bread and lunch meat and began to prepare our sandwiches. I was hungrier than I realized. Sometimes, I got so caught up in my work that I often skipped meals- deadlines and draft after draft made it easier to forget that basic health necessities were important, too.

I was so concentrated on cutting the sandwiches (the way Jade liked them) that I jumped, my thumb slipping against the butter knife, when someone poked me on the middle of my back.

I whipped around. "Jade! You scared me!"

Jade looked half-guilty, half-amused. "So-rry," she said, in that sheepish little kid way. "I wanted to see if the sandwiches were ready. Plus, there's nothing good on TV."

I chuckled despite the fact that the side of my thumb was now bleeding. I turned my back and rinsed the now open wound. "Lunch is almost ready, I promise. Maybe it'll be ready faster as we work as a team?"

"Sure," Jade agreed neutrally, hopping onto the side of the counter and watching me rinse my hand. "Do you need a band-aid?"

"No, thanks." Even though the cut was starting to burn. "It'll heal eventually. Hey, can you hand me the knife?"

Jade nodded and passed the knife to me, and together, we were able to cut the sandwiches into triangular, mini-bites.

Jade popped a sandwich bite into her mouth. "Can I read your column?" she inquired through her mouthful of sandwich.

I poured myself a glass of juice. "I never let anyone read my columns before they're completed, even my parents," I told her. "It's bad luck."

Jade pouted. "Aww, now you sound like just like Uncle."

I squeezed her shoulder with my two forefingers. "Alright, you'll be the first to read it when it's done," I vowed. "You can even be my editor if you want. But you can't tell anyone, even Jackie, about it until it's complete. Is that a deal?"

"Deal," Jade echoed, and we pinkie-promised, the gesture still a legitimate foundation of trust that sealed the deal, no matter how old you are.

We each finished our lunches, Jade returning to the TV, and me returning to the computer. "I'm gonna give Uncle some tea," she announced as she stalked back to the living room.

"Okay," I agreed absentmindedly. "Good luck with that." I wouldn't want to go anywhere near Uncle when he was in this sort of state, but that's just me- more power to her, I guess.

Just as I was about to click back on the article again, my cell phone buzzed against my pocket. I used one hand to open my cell phone and the other to open documents on the computer.

It was a text message from my mother, claiming that she and my father had already scheduled flights and were coming visit within the next week to see how work was coming along and what kind of people I worked with. (Apparently, they still believed I was a twelve-year-old with habits of wandering off and getting into trouble, regardless of me reassuring them otherwise.)

At this, I didn't know how to respond. I'd always been close with my mother, but my relationship (or lack thereof) with my father had always been estranged. Whether it was his habits of being self-centered, moody, and all in all unpredictable (he had a sort of Jekyll & Hyde thing going on for most of my life), it was not enjoyable to be around him for long periods of time. Usually, I was good with a 30-minute dinner or something, but past the thirty-minute mark, he became overbearing. It was like the Cinderella clock striking midnight. One of his many unlikeable habits was being too judgmental- he'd give you his opinion on basically anything, whether you wanted to hear it or not, and wasn't afraid to let you know if he didn't like something. My father was infamous for voicing his negative opinion when the time wasn't right, usually making everyone in the room uncomfortable and scrambling to change the subject, turn on the TV, or go into the kitchen to rummage for food.

My grandparents had always been the complete opposite, so I have literally no idea where he got this specifically negative trait from. However, my grandparents were pretty much blind of this sort of behavior. It seemed to have worsened since he left law school, becoming increasingly arrogant and hot-headed the more he worked with hot-shot lawyers and ill-fated criminals.

Taking a deep breath, I sent my mom an OK (I usually did once a week, just to let her know that I was alive, and that seemed to prevent her from sailing into a nervous breakdown, at least for the time being) and clicked on Jackie's contact, hitting the dial button.

He answered on the third ring. "Yes?"

"Hey," I said.

"Macey? Hello," he said, sounding less professional and more relieved.

"How's Spain going?" I studied my cuticles, another thing I had failed to take care of this week. (Apparently, you're supposed to pull them back once a week, yet this is something I have never in my life done once.)

"It's going," Jackie sighed, sounding tired. "Sealing Dai Gui is much harder than I imagined. Uncle isn't of much help, either."

"Neither surprises me," I stated honestly. "Jade said she was gonna give him tea-"

"Wait." A beat later, Jackie said, slowly, "What kind of tea?"

"I don't know." I shrugged. "I guess her own concoction. Why?"

Jackie exhaled again, this time more frustrated. "I knew it! Jade used a sleeping spell on Uncle."

I couldn't say that was a bad thing for us, but for Jackie, it was. "Well," is all I could say.

"Never mind...I'll just figure it out myself," Jackie sighed. "I'll let you know when I'm on my way."

"Okay," I said. "Good luck."

Once the call ended, I scrolled through the past messages sent between my mother and I.

I had no idea how I was going to tell Jackie about my parents' impending arrival.

But, between supernatural beings and Uncle, one thing I did know that it was definitely going to complicate things.