It should have been no surprise that the monkey had joined his mistress, but Danny couldn't help wondering how it got there. He pushed the thought away; obviously, it was some kind of power. He considered for a moment if they really were ghosts but decided that it didn't matter.

The organ grinder walked slowly along the street, her mask grinning happily. She seemed innocuous enough, but Danny had long since learned that taking things at face value usually resulted in being thrown through the nearest wall. He flew down to hover before her, and she titled her head slightly to indicate puzzlement, or perhaps curiosity. "Who are you?" he demanded.

Although the mask was frozen in a single expression, he had the odd thought that she grinned behind it. "I, mon ami?" she replied, her muffled voice full of satisfaction. "A spirit of tragedy, comedy, academia. A follower of Melpomene and of Thaleia. My name, my pet, is Poetic Lament. I seek not to harm, but merely to mend."

"To mend?" Danny raised an eyebrow in skepticism. "You've forced everyone into a Disney movie," he pointed out.

She waved one finger in the air and shook her head. "Really, force? Their minds are in their own hands. I never coerce, but I don't expect a child to understand."

"Hey!" The boy crossed his arms and glared down at her. "What I understand is that you need to stop, now."

With a laugh, the woman shrugged, and her barrel organ disappeared. "For you, my pet, I'll grant no reprieve. When my job is done, then I'll leave. If you think you can stop me, chase me down. But I know a place where I'll never be found." She and Puck removed their hats to sketch a low bow and vanished.

If they were aliens, she might have gone back to the Mother ship. If they were ghosts, she might have gone to the Ghost Zone. Even assuming that was the case, he would never catch up. There had to be an easier way…

He groaned at the sound of barking and shot into the air, but it didn't help. Fiona still managed to pounce on him, knock him to the ground, and start licking his face. "No, hey!" he protested. "Come on! Get off!"

Somewhere beyond the wiggling, furry mass of blatant plot device, he could hear Valerie laughing. "She's a lot better as a sheltie," the girl mentioned.

"She's heavy!" Danny refuted, gasping for air from the dog sitting on his chest. "Fiona, get off, now." Panting in excitement, she complied in order to chase her tail. The boy shook his head and ignored her. "Well, I found who was responsible, and Ghost Writer can't help."

"That's who you went to find?" Valerie confirmed. "Okay, so what do we do?"

"Ghost Writer doesn't seem to like Master," Fiona stopped chasing her tail long enough to remark. "He won't let her write for him."

"But who is he?" Valerie asked.

Danny looked around. "Um, why don't we go back to my house and I'll explain?" Immediately, Fiona took off barking, scattering a flock of pigeons that were not there a few seconds previous. "I'll explain that, too," he said in answer to the girl's questioning look.

"So they can do anything they want?"

Valerie wasn't quite sure she believed that, but she'd seen too many incredible things to dismiss it out of hand. She glanced furtively at the little black and white ghost dog, lying on the bed next to Danny with her head on her paws. Supposedly, Fiona was weaker than Elegy, and even she could materialize a flock of pigeons from out of nowhere. The hunter girl had experienced, first-hand, the creature's ability to revoke free will. She repressed a shutter.

Danny nodded, also staring at Fiona. She wasn't nearly as annoying as a dog. "What do you know about Lament?" he asked, poking her to get her attention.

The sheltie opened one eye to stare up at him. "She's fun. I like Puck."

"Okay, that doesn't help much…"

Hiding a smile, Valerie broke in. "Where'd she go?"

The little dog blinked and sat up. "You need me?" she asked, hardly daring to hope. Without waiting for any kind of response, she jumped onto the floor and danced around. Her tail wagged so fast, it was little more than a blur that caused her whole body to shake. "I don't know!" she announced. "Probably home!"

"Where's home?" Danny asked, trying to repress a laugh.

"Home is home! Oh! Oh! I'm not allowed to take anybody there, but I bet Ghost Writer could help! If you could go there, you could find Lament! Is that good? That's good, right? I'm doing good?"

"He can't help," the boy reminded her. "He's being attacked by random insanity."

Fiona stopped to wave a paw dismissively. "Oh, please. I'm the Monster of Contrivance! I'm the queen of random insanity!"

"But why help us?" Valerie interrupted. "If she's your master, shouldn't you have to do what she says?"

The creature blinked in confusion and tilted her head. "We do what we want. Besides…" She let her tail and ears droop. "She locked me up and wouldn't let me play. I like Master Danny better!"

Danny shook his head to forestall whatever Valerie was about to say. By the look of supreme amusement on her face, he had a pretty good idea what it would have been. After a second to wrestle with the concept himself, he decided he'd rather not dwell on the change of status. "Okay, Fiona, you're with me. I'll be back soon."

Valerie jumped to her feet. "Oh, no, you don't! I'm not staying behind this time!"

"Look, some of Elegy's creations are really dangerous," he tried to explain. The thought of Insanity came briefly to mind, and he forced it away. That one had been far too much like Silver.

"I can take care of myself! I'm coming with you!"

"I don't want you to get hurt. Just go home."

Fiona sighed, looking between the two as they argued back forth. All she wanted was to go and be helpful. Well, to go, at least. The "being helpful" part was entirely dependant on how much attention she got from Danny, and what it was for. Since she wasn't getting any right then, she decided to take matters into her own paws. A simple twist of reality, and the bedroom door opened to admit Damon who, later, would not remember precisely how he had come to be there.

There was a skip in the ever-present background music as it tried to catch up with the sudden change in events. Fiona was probably the only one who noticed the actual switch from tense drama to low mystique. "Valerie," Damon sang. "It's time to go home!" He grabbed the startled girl's hand and dragged her, protesting, from the room.

"You did this!" she hissed at the sheltie, who returned with an expression of pure innocence.

Danny actually managed to wait until she was out of the room before giving in to the urge to snicker. "Did you do that?" he asked, though he already knew the answer.

Fiona seemed to shrug. "Who, me? Never!" Her wagging tail and lolling tongue gave her away.

The boy shook his head and made a noise that was half sigh and half chuckle. Maybe she wasn't so bad, after all. "Come on. Let's go find Ghost Writer." The little dog barked happily and ran circles around his feet while he transformed.

A/N: Melpomene the Songstressis the Muse of Tragedy. Thaleia, or Thalia, the Flourishing is the Muse of Comedy and playful poetry.