Sidney's eyes slid past Jazz, towards the rest of the city that laid behind her.

"That different, huh?" she asked, tone light and teasing. He'd been doing it almost the whole time that they'd been up here, on the roof of Casper High. It must've been forever since Sidney had last seen the rest of Amity Park.

He laughed, clearly sheepish. "Sorry. I don't mean to be rude."

"I know, it's fine," she assured him, curling her legs underneath herself again. Her jumpsuit creaked a little, pinching her strangely, but Jazz was finally getting used to it. Was spending enough time in her ghost form to adjust. "Amity probably looks way different, huh?"

"Yeah." His gaze wandered off again, towards the busy streets away from the school. It wasn't that late yet, but, well. Not a whole lot of people came out near the school on a Sunday.

Besides, enough people had seen her and Phantom now. There was no point in trying to hide the existence of ghosts anymore, not after that huge battle with Spectra just a few days ago.

Jazz opened her mouth to say more, but cold mist wafted free instead. She groaned, drawing Sidney's attention back to her.

"Ghost," she explained, answering his unasked question.

She pushed herself up onto her feet, knowing that she would have to go look for it herself. Phantom was patrolling, yes, but he was taking care of the far side of Amity. If he came too close, Sidney would set off his ghost sense, and they didn't want to risk him missing any ghosts because he thought it was just Sidney.

A small bark sounded behind her, and Jazz froze. Then turned around, slowly. There, on the roof of the school, was the ghost that had (probably) set off her ghost sense.

The ghost was small and clearly a dog, puppy-like with big red eyes. Its fur was bright green, but its folded ears were black, and its lolling tongue was faint purple. Its tail, as wispy and flame-like as her own hair, was wagging up a storm.

"Well, that saves me the search, at least." She stared down at it, and it looked back at her.

"Be careful!" Sidney cautioned, perched on the edge of the roof. "Animal ghosts are as unpredictable as real animals!"

"I know, Sidney." She rolled her eyes. His advice was meant well, of course, but she had fought plenty of animalistic ghosts to know how to deal with them. This one, though… It didn't seem particularly volatile.

She lowered herself down into a crouch. The dog didn't move, but kept its eyes on her. She could tell, now, that it was wearing a black collar with glinting spikes on it. A dead pet?

Slowly, she extended an arm towards it. It stopped panting, stretching out its neck to sniff her hand. Whatever the ghost was looking for, apparently she was accepted, because it nosed her hand.

Jazz shifted her fingers, scratching the dog in its cold ectoplasmic fur. Its eyes closed into squints as she petted it.

"Jazz…" Sidney said, and she turned to look over her shoulder at him. He was clearly worried, gray eyes darting between her and the ghost.

"It's fine, I think it used to be a pet." She frowned, turning back to the dog. But if it was just a pet dog that died, why did it become a ghost? And why would said ghost then come to Amity? Did it live here? Was it looking for its former family, its owners? "It's not volatile."

Sidney hummed, tone clearly skeptical.

If this ghost was anything special, Phantom would know, right? He didn't have a phone, unfortunately, so she would have to go find him to ask.

She scooped the dog off of the ground, looking at the bundle of green fur squirming in her arms. Well. She couldn't really go looking for Phantom while carrying this ghost, could she?

The ghost was promptly shoved into Sidney's unsuspecting arms, and he scrambled to grab hold of the dog.

"Jazz, what—"

"I just need you to hold him for a bit," she explained, stepping away when it became clear that Sidney had the ghost. "I have to… go ask Phantom."

"Your brother?" Sidney raised a skeptical eyebrow at her. "I don't see why he would be any help in this situation."

"It's complicated." The dog held still in Sidney's scrawny arms. Good. Now she just had to—

"Oh!" Sidney exclaimed, arms flailing in an attempt to grab the ghost dog again. Somehow he missed every attempt—or the dog dodged them all—because it landed back on the roof.

And then, before either she or Sidney could grab it again, it was off like a shot.

"Shoot!" Sidney grunted, clearly frustrated. "Sorry, Jazz, I don't know what it happened. It just freaked out!"

"It's fine, Sidney. It happens." She looked in the direction she thought the dog had gone, but couldn't sense it. She wished her ghost sense functioned a little more like a tracker, sometimes. "Neither of us had expected it to freak out like that. Why don't we go look for it together?"

He nodded, toeing the gravel on the roof. "Alright. Sorry, Jazz."

"Stop apologizing." She waved a dismissive hand in his direction. "Seriously, it's not your fault. Come on, this is a good opportunity for you to see a little more of Amity, too."

The faintest whiff of her ghost sense told Jazz that the ghost was just on the edge of her sense's range. She followed the implied direction, hoping to finally find that dog ghost that had gotten away earlier.

It was about time, really. She'd been looking for so long that Sidney had left to go home. At this point, she figured it was more likely that she was looking for Phantom to ask him if he'd caught the ghost already.

She'd been high in the sky during the approach, in an attempt to make sure the ghost wouldn't see her and run. It had worked; the ghost, in all its green and glowing glory, stood still in the street. Of course, it didn't seem that Jazz was the reason for that. Phantom was darting all around it, interchangingly hitting it with blasts and dodging its swipes.

That, and the ghost she had found wasn't the one she was looking for.

Still, she was here anyway. Might as well make herself useful, especially as the fight was taking place in a residential area.

Jazz launched herself downward, blasting the ghostly feline in the side. Apparently she had blindsided it, because the cat yowled and bounced over the street, not even landing on its feet.

"Specter?" Phantom paused, throwing her a confused look. "Thanks, but… why are you here?"

"Was looking for a ghost." She watched the ghost clamber back onto its clawed feet. "Found you two instead."

Phantom hummed, before throwing himself at the ghost again. It hadn't quite recovered from her blast—thanks to the element of surprise, not her strength, she was sure—and was sucked up in the Thermos easily. She contemplated leaving, but chances were that Phantom had found the ghost dog already.

That, and the meaningful look he was throwing her meant that he would chase her down if she left without him.

She rolled her eyes but followed his path up to a nearby roof, ignoring the hushed whispers of the crowd. This neighborhood was pretty far from FentonWorks; they likely hadn't seen much ghosts around here, not yet.

"Why were you patrolling?" Phantom asked the moment she touched down. "I thought you were spending time with Sidney?"

"I was," she admitted, shrugging. "Some kind of ghost dog found its way up to our roof, but it wasn't malevolent. I wasn't sure what to do with it, but then it suddenly sprinted away. Sidney and I looked for it, but we couldn't find it, so he went home."

"And you kept looking?" Phantom shook his head, then nodded. "What did it look like? I might've come across it before you did."

"Probably, yeah." She held out her hands. "About this big, standard coloration. Floppy black ears, though, and a spiked collar."

Phantom groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Of course it was him. Figures."

"You know this one?" Well, she figured he probably knew all the ghosts they fought. But apparently this one left enough of an impression for Phantom to remember it—him.

"Yeah. Not sure if he has a name, but I've been calling him Cujo, and he answers to that. Sort of." Phantom made a face. "He's a major pain in my ass, honestly. Not too bad himself, but he's looking for a toy from when he was alive, and that set off a huge chain reaction in my world. I thought I had more time to go look for it before he came around, but I guess not."

"There might still be time, right?" She wasn't sure how a dog looking for its toy could cause so much trouble, but still. Phantom had no reason to lie about this stuff. "Let's go retrieve it before he tries doing it himself."

"Right." Phantom nodded, then turned to gesture further out of the city. "We'll need to head towards Axion Labs, then."

"Axion Labs?" she echoed as they both took flight. "Why would he go look for his toy there?"

"If the timeline matches up, which I think it does, they recently replaced their guard dogs with an advanced security system." Phantom looked at her, his expression pained. Surely he didn't mean… "I think Cujo was one of their old guard dogs."

"But— They can't have put all of those down, can they?"

He shrugged. "Maybe he died before then. I don't know. Not like I could ask him, y'know? But his toy is there, in the old kennels."

She opened her mouth to answer, but Phantom paused, suddenly. She stopped as well, hearing, faintly… alarms?

"We're too late." Phantom stared past her, and following his gaze, she saw Axion Labs in the distance. Red lights blinked over the building, and now that she was listening for them, the sound was definitely alarms that were going off.

"What happened?" Surely the ghost hadn't caused any injuries? Phantom would've said if it was dangerous. Right?

"He broke in." Phantom continued his flight again, more slowly. "The security system couldn't stop him, because it was designed to stop humans, not ghosts. The boss is going to be pissed, and they're not going to realize he's a ghost and not a regular dog. The designer of the system, Damon Gray, will lose his job."

"Gray?" she echoed, faintly. "Valerie's dad?"

"He gets re-hired later," Phantom said, sounding like it was supposed to a comfort. "In a lower-paying position, though. The Grays never find their way back to riches."

Jazz felt like she had swallowed a block of ice. She had never really liked Valerie, per se, but that didn't mean that she wanted this for her.

"And it's—"

"Not your fault," Phantom cut in. "Nor mine. If you want to blame someone, blame whoever is responsible for Cujo's death."

He paused, and she stopped next to him. She startled when he grasped for her shoulder, when he met her eyes. "Jazz. Don't blame yourself, okay? It's not your fault that Cujo got away—trust me, he's very good at that. Cujo is just one ghost, and he's not even malevolent. No one is hurt."

"But Valerie—"

"Will be fine." Phantom shook her shoulder a little. "Seriously. It sucks now, and it's gonna suck for a little longer, but in the end she'll be glad it happened. She was in my universe. She's an A-Lister now, I know, and she won't be allowed to stay in that group when they find out that she's not rich anymore. It's gonna be rough, yeah. But eventually she'll realize that those guys were never really her friends, and she'll find better ones, and she'll be happy. Happier than she was before. Okay?"

"Okay," she repeated, not really believing it.

Phantom didn't look like he believed her either, but he let go anyway. "Good. I'll see if Cujo got his toy, and if not, I'll bring it out so he won't break in again. Why don't you go home?"

She sighed, but nodded. "I guess. Not much else I can do, anyway."

He didn't look happy at her sentiment, but hey, neither was she. "Good. Bye, Jazz."

"Bye, Phantom."

Jazz was still thinking about it when she heard Dash snip at someone during lunch. She looked, barely noticeable, as Dash puffed himself up, blocking Valerie's way.

"Oh," Valerie said, posture tense. "I see."

This, she didn't want to hear. Jazz turned back to her lunch, trying to ignore the way her guts squirmed. Phantom might've said that it was unavoidable, that it wasn't her fault, that Valerie would be better off for it, but it didn't feel that way.

She trusted him to be right. Her body didn't have to agree with that, though.

There was nothing she could do about it, anyway. If the other A-Listers got troublesome enough, Sidney could interfere, but she? She couldn't do anything.

The scrape of a lunch tray on a table. Jazz looked up, slightly, to see Valerie hesitate. She shrugged, lightly, then turned back to her own lunch.

Didn't comment when Valerie sat down, joining her otherwise empty table.

Jazz was a Fenton, and unfortunately, the Fentons were outcasts. Danny might've been able to find two kids his age, similarly outcast from society—or uncaring enough to befriend him—but she hadn't been as lucky. Not that she cared, not really. No one picked on her, anyway, and teachers liked her. Who cared about the opinions of kids?

Well, Valerie did, she supposed.

She continued eating her lunch. Phantom had encouraged her to eat well despite the awfulness of both cafeteria food and food prepared home. Apparently half-ghosts burned through a lot of energy, and she had to keep up a steady supply of energy to her developing core.

From the corner of her eye, she saw Valerie pick at her lunch as well. The girl relaxed slightly, over time.

Jazz was a Fenton, and she'd always been an outcast. She hadn't cared enough to change it.

She had never considered that being an outcast would make her a safe haven. She was glad for it, now, for being able to at least offer that to Valerie. Even if she was the reason why Valerie needed it in the first place.

It was something, at least.

Jazz dove, corkscrewing around a non-existent obstacle.

"Good!" Phantom complimented as he caught back up to her side. "Could use more work, though."

She rolled her eyes, whirling around him. "Are you really surprised?"

"Nah," he said, easily. "But it's good to keep in mind, now that we're no longer hiding in the woods."

That, at least, made sense. With Amity's increasing familiarity with ghosts, Phantom said that they could move some of their training sessions back to the city. Some things, like flying, you just couldn't practice in the dense woodlands.

"Fair enough." She watched as he did a complicated roll through the air, darting up and then suddenly dropping down. Phantom might have two years of experience over her, but she was certain that this grace came from elsewhere. He looked right in the skies, in a way she didn't think she ever would.

Still, she tried to mimic his maneuver, coming to a halt next to him. "How was that?"

"Pretty good." He grinned at her, looking impressed. "You've been holding back on— Whoa!"

A bolt of pink ectoplasm shot past them, almost brushing Phantom's arm. Jazz startled. Why hadn't her ghost sense warned her?

She curled through the air, rather than turning in place. Staying in one spot? Potentially dangerous.

When she saw the origin of the blast, however, she faltered.

The figure was humanoid—actually human, she was sure—clothed entirely in red, but with black gloves and boots. Wearing a mask, even. Stood shakily upon a hoverboard, like they—she?—hadn't quite gotten used to it yet. A rather sizable ecto-gun was braced against her shoulder, aimed in their direction.

A second pink blast pinged off of the green shield that had appeared in front of Jazz, and she jerked back to the moment. Phantom hung next to her, his eyes fixated on the human as well. On the ghost hunter.

Jazz opened her mouth to ask him—what now?—but Phantom whispered, so quiet she almost missed it, "Red."

And, oh.

Red was Phantom's ally in his dimension, wasn't she? He trusted her to keep Amity safe from ghost attacks. They couldn't… couldn't fight her, could they?

The third shot went wide, and Phantom's shield faded away. He dove, suddenly, and Jazz swallowed her questions to follow him. Behind her, she could hear thrusters whir to life.

She didn't understand. Wasn't Red an ally in Phantom's world? Wasn't that why he trusted her to keep Amity safe? Had Jazz messed something up, in this universe, that had led to this? Or did they just have to win Red over?

Why was she here, now? What had led to this sudden appearance?

Phantom paused, suddenly, low in an alley. Red's hoverboard sped by, apparently having missed their last dive.

"What—" Jazz started, unsure of which question she was going to ask, but Phantom held up a silencing hand.

"We need to leave," he said, quietly. "We can't—shouldn't—fight humans. The only way to get rid of her is to escape. Split up, and I'll meet you back at your house later so we can talk. Okay?"

She nodded. "Gotcha."

"On go." He crouched in mid-air. She braced herself against a wall. "Go!"

They both pushed off, shooting diagonally out of the alley. Red had spotted them immediately, her hoverboard roaring as she raced back in their direction. Jazz threw a glance at Phantom, saw that he was heading away—towards the park, the woods—and continued her chosen direction towards home. Even if that might seem suspicious, that was were the portal was located. It made sense.

Phantom was much faster than Jazz. She knew this. She knew she was the more likely target. Red's hoverboard just wasn't fast enough to keep up with the older half-ghost.

Still, the roar of the engines went in the other direction.

She slowed, just a tad, to look over her shoulder. And, indeed, Red was chasing down Phantom, not her.

Was she going after the more dangerous target? Surely not? Wasn't it better to chase the weaker target that you knew you could get, rather than go after the more dangerous one you can't catch?

Something weird was going on here. And Jazz didn't like it.

Honestly, Danny hadn't put much thought into how he would meet with Jazz that night. They couldn't risk meeting on the roof in their ghost forms, not if Valerie might be on patrol. And he couldn't just phase inside as Phantom. Even if their—her—parents hadn't ghost-proofed the place, it was far too likely that someone might come in.

But that someone might also be the Danny of this universe. If he saw Danny…

Well. They could probably play that off a shapeshifter ghost? It was his best option, he guessed. He just had to make sure Jazz knew which Danny he was.

He waited until darkness fell, his stomach grumbling as dinnertime came and went. It wasn't as bad in his ghost form, but, well. No sense in risking the Red Huntress just for a little hunger, right?

The light came on in Jazz' room. Showtime.

Danny turned himself invisible, flying towards her window. His powers were harder to use in human form, sure, but not impossible.

Only Jazz was present. He knocked, drawing her attention to the seemingly-empty window. She frowned, but caught on quickly—as expected. Nodded.

He phased inside, dropping his invisibility almost immediately.

"Phantom," she greeted him, and he ignored the usual pang of hurt. He understood, of course, had encouraged her to call him Phantom instead of Danny. It was important to maintain that difference, to remember that he wasn't her Danny.

But hearing his sister, her voice so like his own sister's, call him Phantom instead of Danny…

It hurt. But that was okay. Just a little pain, he could endure. Better him than her.

"Hey, Jazz." He hesitated, then sat down on the edge of her bed. Watched as she dragged a chair in closer, so they could face each other more easily while talking.

"So… Red?" she probed, in a tone he knew oh-so-well.

He laughed a little, despite the pain of the memories. "Yes. The Red Huntress, the public calls her. Or, well. You know what I mean."

Jazz nodded, slowly. Her facial expression was one he was very familiar with. It said 'you'd better keep talking, or I will dig out this information the hard way'.

"She's hired—kinda—by Vlad. Well, an anonymous benefactor, but it's Vlad. He drops off ghost hunting supplies for her, top notch, invented by himself. In return, she hunts down ghosts. Specifically, she always had it out for me."

"Still does, it seems," Jazz pointed out. "She chased after you, even though you were too fast for her. Any sensible hunter would've gone after me."

Then Jazz frowned. "Wait, but why now? What happened that would've brought this on?"

Ah, and there came the real banger. The source of guilt for both of them—because he hadn't prevented it. Almost casually, he said, "Well, her dad lost his job because of ghosts."

"Oh." Jazz' eyes grew wide. "Wait. That was Valerie? A-Lister, sends jocks after kids instead of getting her hands dirty, Valerie?"

"Well, no longer an A-Lister," Danny pointed out with a shrug. "And she is like, a ninth degree black belt. Trust me, you do not want to take Valerie on in a direct fight."

"But—" Jazz slammed her mouth shut, then groaned. "But why? I mean, I get why she's after ghosts, but she was gunning for you, specifically, I'm sure of it. Why would she do that?"

And that was the real question, wasn't it? In his own universe, he'd drawn her ire by being associated with Cujo. In this one? It must be Vlad's doing, right?

"I'm not sure," he admitted. "In my own universe, she had fixated on me because I was there when her dad's reputation was ruined. She thought Cujo was my dog, and blamed me for his rampage. In this one… I don't know. I guess Vlad asked her to focus on me, but I can't imagine why."

"Maybe he wants her to… eliminate you?" Jazz said, slowly. "I mean, I did turn him down because I already had a ghostly mentor. Maybe he thinks that, if he takes out the competition, he can win me back?"

Danny made a face. "Ugh, that sounds exactly like Vlad. It's possible, yeah."

"So we just… need to win Valerie over, somehow?" Jazz shifted in her chair, the frown back. "How did you do it in your universe? Especially since she hated you?"

He laughed. It wasn't happy. "I didn't, not really."

"But—"

"Valerie hates ghosts. I'm not really a ghost, am I?" He grinned, humorlessly. "She fought me until she found out. After that she was still pissed, but she didn't shoot me anymore, so."

"But you… you said you trusted her to keep Amity safe," Jazz stammered, eyes wide.

He shrugged, plucking on his sleeve. It was going ragged—all this time outside in the same clothes was wearing them out way faster than he would've thought. "Well, yeah. She's a great ghost hunter, especially now that she's not driven by vengeance. I trust her. I never said she trusted me back."

"Oh." She turned her face down, her tucked-away hair slipping free.

"But that doesn't mean anything," he said, trying to comfort her again. "I mean, I've got plenty of enemies that you talked out of fighting. And your Valerie, your Red Huntress, she's not blaming you for what happened. If anyone's gonna talk her into being a proper ally, it'll be you. You're great at that stuff."

Jazz looked up again. Her eyes were big and watery. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, trying to come across as casual again. "I mean, look at all these ghosts you've talked out of violence. Lunch Lady, Dora, Sidney, Desiree. I fought all of those guys."

A grin crept on her face, little by little. "Yeah," she said again, more sure. "Yeah, I can do it. I'll convince Valerie. I can do it."

Jazz walked into the canteen a little late. Automatically, she took in all the tables, searching for a spot to sit. Her eye caught on Valerie, alone, outside despite the cold.

She bit her lip.

Win her over. Right. She could do that.

Her lunch tray was filled, and then she walked outside. Sat down on the opposite side of Valerie.

The girl shot her a skeptical look, throwing a very clear glance back at the door. Jazz shrugged.

"I know what ghosts can do to someone's reputation," she said, in lieu of an explanation.

"Oh." Valerie's gaze dropped back to her plate. Her posture softened a little, though. "Right."

They sat in silence for a long moment, both of them picking away at their lunches.

"Look," Jazz finally said, breaking the quiet again. "I'm not going to say that I know what it feels like, because I know that it's not the same. But Valerie…"

Valerie looked up from her lunch, meeting her eyes.

Jazz rolled a lipstick over the table. It hit Valerie's lunch tray with a metal sound, the smooth plating catching the light even when it laid still.

"If you ever want to learn more about ghosts, including how to fight off the bad ones…" She shrugged. "Well, I'd be willing to teach you. Including how to use that laser lipstick."

"Laser?" Valerie echoed, somewhat incredulously. She reached for the tube. Uncapped it to reveal the bright green inner tube.

"Just point and twist the green band," she explained. Handing a ghost hunter a weapon might not seem like the best plan, sure. But Valerie already had plenty of guns. The laser lipstick didn't pack that much of a punch, and it would win her some trust.

Besides, if Valerie wanted to hunt ghosts, she might as well be safe doing it.

Valerie shook her head, capping the lipstick again. "I'll try that somewhere safer, if you don't mind."

But she stuck it in her pocket, rather than handing it back to Jazz, so she counted it a victory.

"Now, about ghosts…" Valerie continued, a grin slowly creeping onto her face.

And Jazz smiled back.

I hate the word "gray" 100% exclusively because I've been exposed to a mixture of British and American English and as a result tend to switch between spelling it as "gray" or "grey" with no rhyme or reason. And yes, on occasion this means using both in one sentence.
...Anyway. I very much had not intended for Valerie and Jazz to become friends but it somehow just happened while writing this chapter and, well, it works! Jazz, Valerie, and Sidney kind of form their own group similar to Danny, Sam, and Tucker, I think. I mean, Valerie still hates ghosts with a passion and thus hasn't met Sidney yet, but shh.

Also I've been slipping on keeping up with my buffer for Absurdism, but! I can say with certainty that there's some real interesting stuff coming up, including a meeting that people have been asking for forever. ;) And hopefully I'll have more time to write soon, with the whole quarantine business going on. (technically I've got school still, but most of my school atm is project work, and we don't have a way to do that from home yet, so...)

Next week, chapter 8: Fanning the Flames