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"Beware!"

Jim jerked upward, the packing peanuts package he was about to open popping and causing the contents to explode. "Fucking shit asshole!" he exclaimed, glaring daggers through the shower of packing peanuts at the ghost. "Would it kill you to just enter a room normally?"

The Box Ghost blinked, floating in place innocently. "Thought you wanted a warning I'd be here," he replied with a shrug. "That's what happened last time."

Jim growled. "Last time you just popped out of a box I literally just packed. This is worse."

"Oh." The Box Ghost scratched his head in confusion. "Why?"

Jim gestured to the packing peanuts on the floor. "Are you going to clean this up? Trick question - you are cleaning this up. Get the broom."

The Box Ghost looked at him, eyes glowing as all of the packing peanuts hovered off the floor. Jim yelped, causing Carl and Jacob to peer their heads in from the loading dock. With a wave of his hand, the packing peanuts flew toward Jim, piling around him in one graceful sweep. "The Box Ghost needs no broom!"

Jim glowered at the ghost, before storming through the packing peanuts with a string of curses under his breath.

:-=-:

Three days in and the Box Ghost still couldn't deal with his worst task.

The lunch table.

Considering he was in a relationship with someone who screamed about lunches… This was pretty disappointing.

He floated a way off from the table itself, scanning each of the humans as they joked around. Carl was leaning over the table, trying to grab something from Jacob's lunch. The quiet man held the container higher, a look of exasperation and confusion hiding the amusement in his eyes. Shirley was animatedly talking to Jim about a new foot massager while Jim only looked somewhat amused.

Ernie had sat with him the first day, explaining the rules, the protocols, something about a tax deduction. Since then, he was on his own.

He frowned at that realization, looking more uncomfortable and out of place than he thought possible. With a short sigh, he floated upwards through the roof and settled on top of it.

The stars shone down on Amity Park, their reflection twinkling against the lake. The moon shone brightly, with the wisps of daybreak just dancing over the horizon. Box Ghost sighed again, questioning his resolve as he took a bite out of his sandwich.

"Box Ghost?"

The spectre looked up. Phantom floated in front of him, wary concern donning his features. The boy's eyebrow was arched up as if he was about to make some sarcastic comment. "What are you doing here?"

Box Ghost's eyebrows knitted together. "I work here now," he stated flatly.

Phantom, to his credit, winced. "I know that but I meant on the roof." The young ghost's hands flailed outward as he spoke, almost as if he didn't realize he was doing it. "Why not with other people?"

Box Ghost sighed deeply. "Cause they're people."

Phantom's eyes searched the Box Ghost before letting out a small sigh of his own. "Hard time making friends?" he asked genuinely.

The Box Ghost huffed. "I don't need friends! The Box Ghost only needs his crates of terror!"

Phantom watched him drily. "So… if I said that to the Lunch Lady…"

The Box Ghost's eyes widened slightly. "Please don't."

"I thought so."

They were silent for a bit after that, Box Ghost absently eating his sandwich while Phantom just sat on his own.

"How do you make friends?" The Box Ghost asked eventually.

Phantom's face went from surprised to chagrin to pitying in a matter of seconds. His left arm came up behind his head. "I think you're asking the wrong person," he muttered quietly. "I'm not the most popular person out there."

"But you have friends."

Phantom nodded. "The best."

The Box Ghost looked up at the night sky wistfully, looking at the stars. "Must be nice."

Their silence stretched onward. Phantom drifted over to the roof, looking toward the horizon. Phantom sighed deeply. "See that bright point on the horizon?"

The Box Ghost turned to him. "What?"

"Just humour me."

The Box Ghost gave him a quizzical look but obliged nonetheless, red eyes drifting to the brightest part near the horizon. "Yeah?"

"That's Venus," Phantom replied. "The best time to view it is just before sunrise. Sometimes, if I'm out patrolling or get woken up by a ghost, I find a high point to just stare at it. Helps calm me down."

"Why does it help calm you down?"

Phantom smiled. "I wanted to be an astronaut before all this," he said dreamily.

The Box Ghost stared at him hard. "I… I didn't know that."

Phantom shrugged. "Eh, no one ever asks," he replied. "Astronomy is probably the one subject in science I can ace without studying. Maybe astrophysics – but the math is a bit much."

They sat staring up at the sky for a few more minutes in awkward silence.

"I should probably go," the Box Ghost replied. "Break's almost over."

"Yeah."

The Box Ghost floated up hesitantly, questioning whether or not he should leave. "Hey," he started tentatively. "You want to come by again sometime?"

Phantom's green eyes widened comically. "What?"

"You know," the Box Ghost fidgeted slightly, pushing his two index fingers together as he spoke. "During my breaks."

Phantom looked at the ghost incredulously. "Like… have lunch together?" he asked. Box Ghost nodded. Phantom frowned. "Maybe… it's not exactly noon is it?" The teen stood up, stretching his muscles as he lengthened in the air. "How about once a week? That way you can still try making friends."

"That can work." The Box Ghost turned to dive down toward the plant before he stopped. He glanced back at Phantom. "My friends call me Boxy," he said simply. With that, he dove down toward the plant, leaving the teen staring at the roof.

Phantom chuckled. "Wow," he started sarcastically. "I'm at the loser table at school and at work." With another sigh, he looked above and stared wistfully at the stars. A small smile crept on his face as he took off lazily, finally heading home.

:-=-:

Jim ran his hand across his face. "Okay, let's do this one more time." He eyes the floating man in front of him with disdain. "Take this delivery to Casper High's main office, get them to sign the slip and then come back here. Got it?"

The ghost blinked, wide wondrous eyes looking down at the man in front of him. Jim sighed. "Okay repeat it back to me."

"I take the box."

"Yes."

He pointed to the large box of chalk next to Jim. "This one?"

"Yes."

"Go to the High School."

"Yes."

"Get the scary typing lady to sign the slip."

"Yes." Jim held his breath, hoping this time was the one…

…

…

"I keep the box."

"No. You give them the box Boxy. It's their box."

"But I'm the Box Ghost! They're my boxes."

"It's their delivery," Jim explained for the fourth time. "You can't keep the box. Try again."

"I take the box."

"Yes."

"… I keep my box?"

"NO!"

Jim's frustration rose as he glared up at the Box Ghost.

Their standoff lasted all of ten seconds before Boxy yelled "Beware!" grabbing the delivery in question and disappearing from the warehouse.

Jim blinked, then sighed tiredly. "Carl!" he called out. "Get ready for another complaint!"

He heard Carl groan. "Boxy?"

"Boxy."

:-=-:

After his last delivery, Box Ghost was stuck on the dust run for three nights.

He sighed, absently pushing the broom slowly as he watched the rest of the crew work. Jacob and Jim were working on unloading shipments while Shirley and Carl were unboxing. There wasn't really much to clean - the shipment was a pretty simple set of Axion lab equipment going toward the mayor's office. It wasn't like the glitter fiasco from the last PrettynPinkPlus shipment - he was still finding glitter on his overalls.

"We need to get this out ASAP," Shirley said with a small frown. "Masters doesn't need another reason to cut shifts."

"It's almost midnight," Carl whined with a small yawn. "Like the rich asshole will be up at this hour."

"No cussing," Jim called back.

Jacob frowned. "You can't say that," the man told him. "Not right."

Jim glared while Carl chuckled.

"See! Jacob gets me!" Carl said, gestured to man. "No way it'll even be open."

Shirley sighed. "But the last time we waited, he sent two audits our way," she lamented. "If only -" she stopped, a thoughtful expression on her face. She turned to Box Ghost, who stared back.

Jim shifted on his feet, looking the dark-haired woman suspiciously. "What're you thinking bosslady?" he questioned hesitantly. His eyes traced her eye line, frowning as he tried to piece together everything.

"If only we had a way to deliver it without needing a signature," she replied. "Like if someone could magically delivery it without leaving a trace."

All eyes turned to the Box Ghost. The ghost shrunk at their case, cocking his head. "What?"

Shirley smiled. "How'd you like to escape dust run for a while?"

:-=-:

It was a long time ago that the Box Ghost was in a moving vehicle. If you didn't count the time Phantom's friend put him in the speeder. It was his first time alone with Jacob.

Red eyes shifted uneasily, tracing Jacob's set jaw as the man kept his eyes on the road. "You okay?" Jacob asked suddenly. Box Ghost frowned in response. Dark eyes glanced over in the mirror. "At job?"

"I think so," Box Ghost said. "Everyone seems to get angry at me."

Jacob chuckles. "Cause you have strange habits."

Box Ghost blinked. "I do?"

"Yes." Jacob kept his eyes on the road. "We follow rules and keep head down. You do opposite. Too much trouble."

Box Ghost grew smaller in the seat. "Oh."

Jacob sighed. "My English is so-so," he told the ghost. "It's hard to talk to people so I have job here. Keep job here if follow rules. Scary otherwise."

"Scary?"

Jacob glanced at him. "Ghost attacks. People. All the same."

Box Ghost studied the man beside him. "You don't like talking to people?"

"Hard to in groups," Jacob replied with a shrug. He pulled up next to Axion, ignoring the giant gate with barbed wires. "Now, delivery."

"I go leave the boxes in the drop off area," Box Ghost repeated sullenly.

"Without?"

"Taking the boxes."

"And if you see someone?"

"Get them to sign for it."

"Then?"

"Come right out."

Jacob nodded. "Good. Go."

:-=-:

The last person Box Ghost thought he'd see was Skulker at his delivery.

"Box Ghost?" the mechanical ghost questioned incredulous. "What are you doing here?"

Box Ghost dropped the shipping palette gently on the loading dock. "Delivery for Mayor Masters," he said.

Skulker's green eyes went wide. "You're actually giving up boxes?"

Box Ghost stared forlornly at the 12 packages on the palette. He desperately wanted to take the boxes back, just leaving the contents. "Yes." Red eyes widened as he remembered the signature. He brought out a clipboard and thrust it toward the hunter. "Here - please sign this."

Skulker looked at the clipboard, at the palette and then the Box Ghost a few different times. "Why do you have this?"

Box Ghost shrugged. "Job," he said simply.

Skulker frowned, but signed the clipboard and returned it to the other ghost. Box Ghost looked the signature over, nodded and turned to leave.

Skulker on that other hand stared at the palette for fifteen minutes before he called Plasmius for an explanation.

:-=-:

"Got it!" Box Ghost exclaimed once he returned to the truck. He gave Jacob the clipboard as he settled into the seat proudly. "And I left the boxes."

Jacob nodded. "Good. We head back to warehouse." The man looked over the signature, eyes narrowing in confusion at the name on the signature. "Who signed?" he asked as he started the truck.

"Sku

lker."

They drove in silence for a few minutes before Jacob turned to his coworker. "Skulker the ghost?"

"That one."

Jacob chuckled. "That's new."