"Your father did what?!" Danny's mother was trying her best to sound reasonable. But reasonable was not what she was feeling. Family Spaghetti Night was getting pretty uncomfortable.
"Honeycakes, it was the Ghostfacers. Well, practically the Ghostfacers. Almost. At least acquaintances."
"I don't care if it was his royal holiness Sir Albert Einstein-—Science God rest his soul."
"Science God rest his soul," echoed back Jazz and Danny.
"Sweetness, eternal love of my life, they were just asking about the recent ghost activity around here. Nothing I couldn't handle." He said soothingly. "And besides, they were just a couple of young kids. What could they do?"
His two kids rolled their eyes. The guys had been at least 30. They were baby-faced and unGodly attractive. (Danny had noticed this passively. Jazz had felt it vehemently in her teenage girl bones.) But still, their visitors had definitely been older than "just young kids."
"Whoever they were, I'm not gonna have another incident like last February. All those reporters with their blogs and their "hash-tag Ghosthunter Goofs." She gestured towards Danny. "You know our boy's barely making it through high school as it is."
Danny nearly choked on a noodle. "Wow, mom." he answered, playing it off and hoping it wouldn't get weird.
It quickly did. "Oh honey. I see you come home all the time after those boys at school hassle you." Her tone was serious and Maddie Fenton reached over to pat her sons arm. "You're a sensitive boy and we love you for it. But sometimes other kids just don't understand."
Jazz's eyes nearly popped out over her plate. And her brother could tell she was holding her breath, trying not to say whatever was going through her head. Or simply burst into laughter.
Pulling his arm away, Danny tried to brush it off. "Mom, I'm fine." He was visibly uncomfortable with the sympathy his mother was loading on him. What Jazz and Danny both knew was that all those bruises she was so concerned over, weren't from kids that hassled him during school. They were from the ghosts hassling him after school.
His mom drew back, a little hurt but trying not to show it. "It's okay, sweetums. We're here for you when you need to talk." She glared over at her husband. "As long as some of us aren't too busy chatting up some tabloid muckrakers!"
"Ghostfacers, Maddie. Ghostfacers."
"If you mention them one more time, I swear I will throw this beautiful plate of carbonara in your face." Then she stabbed her fork into her plate so hard, Danny thought he heard a prong break.
Her husband knew what the rest of the night would be like. Standing up, he lifted his plate. "Honey. Dearest. Let's go downstairs. Let the kids finish their dinner." He carefully slid his wife's plate of spaghetti out of her reach. "Don't want to waste food, huh?"
Danny's mother stared at the plate she'd been ready to throw. She forced herself to put it down. "You're right…" she chose her words carefully, "dearest."
Jack Fenton was sometimes wiser than he looked. He smiled, and almost looked happy to start arguing with his wife. "Alright kids, finish up your meal without us. Your mother and I are going to have a 'discussion' downstairs."
Carrying both plates of pasta, he and their mother walked out of the kitchen and towards the basement entrance. There was one final wave before Danny heard his mother start. "Why do you always insist we go downstairs when-" then his father gently shut the basement door, cutting his wife off mid sentence.
Jazz practically spat out her food, sputtering with laughter.
"It's not funny Jazz." He had one of those
His sister took a deep breathe, rubbing away tears that had leaked out. "Oh, come on. It was a little funny." She put on an overly concerned face, imitating her mother. You just say what you feel, you're a sensitive boy. She tried to lean over an pat her brother's arm but Danny swatted it away.
"Yeah, well what does it say about me when even my own parents think I'm a loser." The table thumbed as Danny slid, slouching in his chair.
Now Jazz looked legitimately concerned. No longer teasing, she answered back. "Oh, Danny. You know they didn't mean it like that. They don't know what you actually do." She quickly glanced at the basement door, making double sure it was closed. "Of course they're going to make...assumptions." She glanced at his sleep-strained eyes, trying not to be obvious. "And you do look a little worse for wear. Anyone would get worried."
She was making him feel guilty. Guilty about nothing Danny hated when she did that. "I'm fine. I just...need some space." He shoved his plate away, barely touched. "I'm headed out. Tell Mom and Dad I'm at Tucker's."
Jazz still looked worried. "Sure. But are you gonna actually be with Tucker?"
Up now, Danny shrugged. "I don't know. If I've got time. What do you care?"
"Hey, I'm just asking." She tossed her fork onto the table. Apparently no one was finishing their dinner tonight.
"Okay, well don't. You've got your own stuff and I've got mine. You don't need to get in it. You're not Mom."
"I just get-" she paused, trying not to get angry. "I get worried. More than Mom because I actually know what you're doing at night. And I don't think asking whether or not you're going to Tucker's is unreasonable. Not when I don't know if you're gonna come home in one piece." At that last bit, Danny heard her voice brake.
The only thing worse than another guilt trip was leaving his sister crying. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry. You're right, I haven't been getting sleep lately and- Well, I don't know where I'm gonna be tonight. Things have been...weird. I've gotta go find out some things and I don't know where it's gonna take me." Jazz still looked upset. "But if you do get worried, give Tucker a call. I'm pretty sure he's stuck about a thousand trackers inside my cell." Jazz looked a little confused and even more concerned.
"Don't worry," he hastily replied. "He's not paranoid. He just hates how often I lose my phone." Danny had lost a lot of phones-in the old river outside town, 4 separate parking lots, and he had lost count of the dumpsters he'd had to dive through.
Danny reached out to pat his sister's arm. "Really, don't worry about me." He gave her a little salute, walking through the far wall, with the farewell, "See you soon."
