A/N: I officially hate battle scenes. They're extremely difficult to write. And I totally did a cop-out with the end of it. Sorry. On the positive side, this is longer than expected, which I'm sure you'll all love. Seriously, while I was writing it was always like "I just have this one last thing to do." Painful to write, but I think it turned out okay, with the possible exception of the ending, which feels weak to me.

I took some liberties with this chapter, so there is some stuff here with Danny's character that doesn't really make sense in terms of the show, but I ask that you please keep in mind that Danny is seventeen and has been through a lot in the last three years, and in my little fic verse the last few months have been particularly weird for him. For instance, Danny currently carries around an ecto-gun because of something that happened to him (in my mind) just a few months prior to this story.

In other news, Reality Trip was absolutely amazing! gushes love I'm so happy I got to see it, Ultimate Enemy has a contender for best episode ever now, though I'm personally a huge fan of Maternal Instinct and My Brother's Keeper. Shimegami-chan had myself and a bunch of our friends over and we had an awesome day filled with Danny, plus a little Fairly Odd Parents on the side (I haven't seen much of it, so I didn't know that the animation was so weird at first! And Cosmo was just plain different!).

Anyway, enough with my blabbering. Once again, huge thanks to my reviewers. On with the show . . .


Chapter Four: Shopping, Ghost Attacks and Failed Communication

What do you wear on date to a movie when you're forty? Well, okay, forty-two.

Mr. Lancer glared at the contents of his closet, completely unsatisfied. If Kat's intention had been to help keep him distracted from Phantom's sketchbook she'd succeeded. Fortunately, her intentions had involved going on a date with an available man her age who she liked as more than a friend. She also succeeded in making said man a nervous wreck.

How many blue-grey dress shirts do I own anyway?

It was something of a shock to realize that virtually his entire wardrobe had been relegated to multiple copies of the same, or nearly same, outfit. Everything was work related, everything was . . . well, boring.

Lancer had never considered himself to be the kind of person who owned that kind of wardrobe. Sure, being a vice principal required a certain authoritative look, but when had work overtaken his life?

For a moment he wondered why his friends and family had never said anything, then it occurred to him that they probably thought that it was the way he wanted to dress. Not that he saw his limited number of friends very often, or his family for that matter. Brushing off a sense of discomfort with the way his life had gone, Lancer concentrated on the problem at hand.

"It's not like I don't have any money, and it's only noon, I can just go buy something."

Famous last words.

Two hours and five hundred dollars later, Lancer sat in the mall food court wondering where the train that had just run him over had come from.

Several bags containing what the saleswomen had termed 'wardrobe basics' lay around him, though Lancer was of the personal opinion that five hundred dollars really ought to be able to buy more than just basics. Especially when everything was on sale.

It had been something of an learning experience, with Lancer discovering such tidbits of wisdom as 'tucking in shirts makes most people look like they carry more weight than they do.' Somewhere along the line he also found out that he'd been wearing his pants too small and his shirts too big. Otherwise the last two hours was a blur of clothing.

He had, however, managed to come out of the store with an outfit that would work for that evening. Somewhere in the small sea of bags there was a pair of dark-wash jeans and a not-meant-to-be-tucked-in red dress shirt that even Lancer had to recognize looked good on him.

At least I'll have some variety in my closet now.

"You know, this running into you everywhere thing is getting seriously creepy."

Mr. Lancer looked up to see a package laden Daniel Fenton grinning down at him.

"Sweet Valley Twins! What is all that?"

"Ghost hunting equipment," Danny responded shifting the weight of the packages partially onto the table. "Or at least it will be once my parents get through with it. I get to be a pack mule while they shop."

Lancer sized up the large number of bags and boxes, "Does that include the gargantuan bar of fudge sticking out the top?"

"Uh, no," Danny's expression was comical. "Dad just really likes fudge."

The black haired boy opened his mouth to say something else but was accidently pushed by a passer-by, luckily Danny's load simply shifted all the way onto the table. A sound somewhere between pain and exasperation escaped him.

"What is with all the people here today? You can hardly move!"

"It's raining, there's a massive sale and it's late November so people are starting Christmas shopping," Mr. Lancer responded with the most likely explanation.

"Is that what you're here for?" Blue eyes inspected Lancer's own pile of bags.

"Not really," the teacher responded, suddenly flustered. "I came for an outfit and got a bit . . . run over."

Danny nodded in understanding, "I know what you mean. Sam did that to me once when I was looking for a shirt, I think I ended up spending every last bit of cash on me." The teen's eyes sparkled with curiosity, "So why were you looking for an outfit?"

"Not that it's any of your business, Mr. Fenton, but I have a date."

If Lancer had thought Danny's expression was comical before it was nothing compared to now. "Seriously? You have a date? Oh, man, that's awesome. You actually asked Kat out?"

That wasn't the response I was expecting.

"Actually, she asked me out . . . wait. How did you know my date was with Katherine?"

Danny looked somewhat uncomfortable for a moment, "Well . . . um . . . you know, it just sorta made sense to me. . ." Abruptly he stiffened, turned away, and began scanning the room, but not before Lancer noticed a weird blue mist.

Mr. Lancer frowned, "Did you just see . . ."

Anything else the teacher had been about to say was drowned out by a scream.

One of the more interesting things about Amity Park is that there is enough paranormal activity that most people could now tell the difference between an it's-a-ghost scream and any other type of scream. This scream was decidedly of the first kind, and the response of most of the mall goers was almost instantaneous. They started to run.

Or tried to.

There is a practical issue with hundreds of people who are crammed into a too small space trying to run in different directions at the same time. The issue being that no one can actually run in those conditions, and the result of trying is no one moving at all.

Well, that and a lot of bruises.

Mr. Lancer was not one of the ones who tried to run. He had been involved in way too many ghost attacks, and recognized the futility of attempting to run in this particular situation. Instead, the teacher took cover under the table.

Danny joined him there.

"Dammit," the student muttered under his breath. "There's no where to . . ." He stopped and looked at Lancer like he'd suddenly realized that the adult was there, " . . . go," he finished lamely.

The teenager looked like he was caught in some internal debate. A second scream and a crash appeared to settle it for him. "Okay, guess we do this the hard way."

Lancer didn't have time to question that odd statement before Danny dodged out from under the table. Reacting on instinct, the teacher removed himself from his cover to attempt to drag the teen back.

Only to be stuck because of the wall of people. Danny, considerably smaller and more agile, didn't seem to have any trouble maneuvering though the crowd. With some panic, Mr. Lancer realized that Danny was heading toward the ghost rather than away from it. Worry, and a slowly thinning crowd, allowed the teacher to push his way through.

He had just managed to make it to the 'front' when he saw something that sent his heart up into his throat. The ghost, a massive glowing green snake with red eyes, had wrapped its tail around a little girl and was rearing back to snap its jaws around her. . .

And was subsequently pelted in the head by an ecto-blast.

Hissing the ghost released the child and turned towards the source of its pain, a black haired, blue eyed teenager holding a smoking ecto-gun.

Danny? Where did he get an ecto-gun?

Insofar as Lancer was aware, neither of the Fenton children shared their parents vocation, yet here was Danny, glaring down a ghost.

The snake moved first, but Danny dodged its fangs with surprising ease. Taking advantage of the time it took for the spook to redirect its motion, the teen snapped off a couple of potshots and began moving towards the child who, though now loose, was still trapped behind the rather large specter.

Watching, Lancer couldn't help but wonder where Danny had learned to move like that. At school he was known for clumsiness, and, amongst other things, for being notably bad at gym.

Still in shock, the adult stared while Danny jumped over the specter and scooped up the little girl, who proceeded to cling onto him for dear life.

Horror spread through Mr. Lancer as he watched the scene unfold. There was no where for the two trapped children to go, since it was unlikely that Danny could vault over the ghost again with a child in his arms, and the ghost had its body looped in a semi-circle around their position.

His legs were moving before his mind registered what he was doing. Mr. Lancer had just enough time to tell himself that he was insane before he got close enough to the ghost.

"Danny!" he yelled, holding out his arms for the girl. Understanding dawned in the teenager's eyes, he said something to the little girl that Lancer couldn't hear before moving closer to the teacher's position. Taking a deep breath the boy tossed the small child into the open arms of Mr. Lancer.

Unfortunately the action grabbed the attention of the ghost, which screeched in anger. Hastily, Lancer began backing up.

Once again the creature was smacked in the face by ecto-blasts as Danny wildly shot at it, trying to give Lancer cover fire. "Go!" the boy yelled at the now hesitating man, Lancer took the advice and ran for it.

As it turned out, he didn't have to run very far, the girl's parents were waiting on the periphery of the ghost's reach. Not really listening to the babbled, between tears thanks, Lancer spun on his heel to look back and make sure Danny was okay. He had turned just in time to see Danny tumble past the head of the ghost snake, causing the spook to accidently loge its fangs into the floor.

Lancer wasn't the only one watching, though the crowd was a lot thinner now, there were a fair few number of people who had stopped to gawk at the fight. A few muffled cheers had gone up when the ghosts fangs had been caught, only to quickly be silenced when the ghost simply phased them back out.

Shouldn't we be doing something to help him? But Lancer couldn't shake the feeling that he would get in Danny's way more than anything. The teenager, as weird as it was, was doing almost as well as any of Amity Park's ghost hunters normally would (with the exception of Danny Phantom, who had a considerable advantage). And he was doing it without the training, and lacking the large majority of the equipment.

This is surreal, he's actually pretty good at this, Mr. Lancer mused as Danny caught his balance after the floor beneath him gave way due to the snake slamming its tail into the tiles.

Intent on the fight, the teacher almost missed the orange and blue blurs that ran past him into the fray.

Almost.

Jack Fenton was a very hard man to miss, and his wife Maddie, though much smaller, was just as notable.

"Danny!"

The yell from his parents was just enough to distract Danny from the situation at hand. Caught while glancing in their direction, he was hit by the flailing tail of the ghost and sent flying. Lancer winced in sympathy as Danny smacked into the counter of one of the food vendors, the teen's angle and momentum sending him up, over, and out of sight behind the stall.

It was, unfortunately, one of the stalls behind the ghost snake's position, so there was no way for anyone to get to him until the spook had been taken care of.

"Danny!" Maddie Fenton yelled again, this time activating a glowing staff. Her husband settled for a battle cry, and a basic, if large, ecto-gun.

Mr. Lancer was pretty sure that he had never seen the ghost hunting couple be so ruthlessly efficient before, though given that one of their children was in danger and possibly hurt, the added fury was understandable.

A white flash of light briefly caught the teacher's attention, though it was quickly forgotten as Danny Phantom joined the battle, seemingly coming out of nowhere.

Their minds entirely on the ghost that was keeping them from their youngest, for once the Fenton's made no move to question the ghost boy, merely accepting his presence and his help by not attacking him. Phantom, for his part, was unusually quiet, and to Lancer's mind, seemed oddly reserved in his movements.

Watching the expression on Phantom's face, Mr. Lancer noticed that the ghost occasionally winced from pain that had no obvious cause.

Is his back hurt?

Regardless of whether the ghostly teen was hurt, the three apparently made a good team and made fairly short work of the snake. The only notable delay was when Phantom left for a moment to grab a metal thermos, which he sucked the other ghost into the first chance he got.

In the momentary lull after the fight, Lancer realized that he had a golden opportunity.

"Phantom!" The teacher called out, causing the ghost to turn towards him. "I need to . . ."

His words were drowned out by the Fentons yelling for their child. Oddly, Phantom looked panicked at this.

"Oh, man. Gotta go!" With that the specter disappeared into the floor.

Well, that was ineffective.

The small crowd around Lancer let out a collective sigh of relief as Danny Fenton walked out from behind the stall he'd been thrown behind, a little beaten up, but seemingly okay. Mr. Lancer let out a breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding and walked over to where Danny was now surrounded by his parents.

"Danny!" Maddie and Jack both enveloped their son in a hug, relief evident on their faces. Drawing back, Maddie began examining the boy for injury, "What in the world were you thinking, young man?"

Danny blushed slightly, "Well, um, you two weren't here and someone had to keep the ghost occupied so it wouldn't hurt the crowd."

The statement was a sincere one, and Mr. Lancer felt a burst of pride in his student. Obviously the Fenton adults felt the same, as they exchanged proud glances.

"That is so sweat, honey. I'm sorry we were late, we couldn't get through all the people in time."

"We're proud of you son," Jack Fenton backed up the statement with a resounding slap on the back. Lancer noted that Danny winced and bit his lip at the contact.

Maddie noticed too, "Danny? Are you okay? Are you injured somewhere?"

"I'm fine, mom. Just a little bit bruised where I hit the counter." The teen held up his hands preemptively at the look on his mother's face, "Really. It's nothing."

Mr. Lancer decided that it was time to give the family some space, and left to see if any of clothing he had bought was still intact.

By some miracle both his purchases and the purchases of the Fenton's were fine. After dropping the family's bags and boxes over to them, waving off their thanks, and grabbing his own pile of bags, Lancer vacated the mall with his mind full of the afternoon's events.

Who knew Danny Fenton had the heart of a hero?