Okay so this is not a crackfic by any stretch and you can absolutely blame the Phandom discord for the summary. This is gonna be a rewrite of the show with all three of the kiddos as halfas. While some events will play out as they do in canon, others will be wildly different because there's three of em and their entire situation is different because of it. This will eventually be DxS.
Beta'd by FiveRivers/Marsalias
"Okay, one more time. It's called the what?"
Danny resisted the urge to sigh and stared at the grains of wood less than an inch from his eyes. Crystal clear, even though the arms enclosing his head against the picnic table eliminated almost all light coming in. Apparently, this was something he could do now. "The Fenton Finder."
"And it led them right to you?"
"Yep."
"While it wasn't even finished?!"
"Yep."
Tucker made a noise that sounded like someone had shoved an eraser up his nose and Danny listened to him typing furiously on his PDA.
"Well…that bites," Sam declared after a moment of silence. "What are you gonna do about it?"
Danny raised his head, frowning. "Uh, 'we', Sam. I think you meant 'we.'"
"Hey, I'm not the one who shares a house with the ghost hunters."
"I mean, what should I do?" he snapped, throwing his hands in the air. "Drop it out of the sky so it breaks? Or, I don't know, throw it through the portal the next time it opens? They'll just make a new one. After they spend a whole day raving about ghosts sabotaging their equipment." With that, his head dropped back to the table with a thunk.
"Dude, relax, it'll be fine. They'll probably just keep thinking it's broken and give up eventually." Tucker said. "I mean, it's not like they'd attack their own kid."
He laughed as if the mere thought were ridiculous but Danny, well. Danny wasn't sure. And, boy, did he hate it. He peeked at Sam, out of habit more than anything, and knew from the slight scowl on her face that she was thinking along the same lines as he was.
"Do you think…" Danny paused, raised his head, and curled his fingers against his biceps. "Do you think maybe we should tell them?"
The words had barely left his mouth before Sam scoffed. "Why? Parents don't listen! Even worse, they don't understand! Why can't they accept me for who I am!?"
Tucker stared at her, completely unimpressed, and Danny frowned. "Uh, Sam. We're talking about my parents."
"Oh, right. Me too."
Danny sighed. "I mean, come on. It's been a month since the accident and we barely have any control."
"Speak for yourself, man." Tucker folded his arms. "I haven't fallen through my bed in a week. That's progress."
"The fact that's considered progress isn't exactly a good thing," Sam pointed out.
Tucker smirked. "You're only saying that because you haven't made any."
She folded her arms, her usual scowl deepening into one of genuine distaste. Unlike the boys, she hadn't been falling through her bed. Quite the opposite, actually. She kept waking up on the ceiling, despite her best efforts to keep herself firmly in her bed. Danny had suggested she strap some weights to herself to keep her down but apparently an extra thirty pounds meant nothing to a power capable of lifting an entire human body into the air. Short of literally tying herself to the bed, she was running out of options. She was lucky her parents hadn't barged into the room while she was sleeping, but with them, it was only a matter of time.
"For your information, I woke up in my bed this morning."
"Lucky you," Danny muttered. His legs were getting a bit sore from being pressed into the edge of the bench so he tried to adjust them, only to find that he couldn't move his feet. He leaned back so he could peer under the table and groaned at what he saw. "Uh, guys?"
"Yeah?"
"My feet are in the ground."
And, then, because that was what his life was these days, his butt fell through the bench and he hit the ground with a solid thud.
Mocking laughter rang through the air, informing him that his fall (and hopefully only his fall) had not gone unnoticed by other students spending their free period before lunch outdoors. He recognized Paulina's high-pitched laughter among the rest and felt his face heat up.
Under the table, Sam aimed a surreptitious kick at Danny's shin with her boots and Danny hissed, recoiling. Fortunately, it was enough for his feet to pop free from the earth and he sat up, dusting a few errant blades of grass from his arms. Pulling his legs out from under the table, he climbed back into his seat and sighed.
"At the very least, maybe they could come up with something to get us to stop doing that. I mean, come on, if my parents can invent something that turns us—" he glanced at the nearby table where most of the laughter had come from. No one seemed to be listening but with something like this, one couldn't be too sure. He lowered his voice to hiss, "—y'know, then maybe they can do something to change us back."
"Or it could kill us," Sam pointed out. "Y'know. For real."
Danny's forehead hit the table again. Knowing his parents, Sam was probably right. The fact that they hadn't completely died in the Accident was pure luck, as far as Danny could tell. Not that he knew much about ectoplasm or ghost dimensions or portals.
Somewhere behind him, the bell rang, announcing second lunch, and Sam clapped her hands together once with an excited hiss.
"What's got you so excited?" Tucker asked.
"Oh, nothing much. Remember that program I mentioned I was pushing for the school board to try?"
Danny raised his head. "You mean the lunch program?" He frowned. "I thought you'd dropped that." He'd barely been able to function normally with all this ghost weirdness, he was surprised Sam found the wherewithal to finish her one-woman campaign against the school board. Then again, it was Sam….
"What program?" Tucker asked warily and narrowed his eyes. Sam merely swung her legs over the bench and rose to her feet. "What'd they do to the meatloaf? Sam, what did you do to the meatloaf?! Sam!"
Danny sighed and, ignoring Tucker's frantic yells, followed Sam into the school. They were probably in for a week of salads, tofu, veggie wraps, fresh fruit, and whatever else. It couldn't be that bad.
It could.
Her name had been Dorothy, Before. This was a fact, nothing more. None of the children ever called her by her name. She was simply the Lunch Lady and that had been fine for her. It was all about the children and lunch. Making lunches for the children, serving lunches to the children. Hundreds of children, thousands. Countless faces filing by her station day after day, year after year, decade after decade. Every month the same menu, each meal reoccurring exactly every two weeks, without fail, following the menu she herself had written long ago. Were there minor deviations? Perhaps. Special weeks. Special days of pizza. But those were scheduled. Those were planned. They were a menu.
And so it had always been. Until now.
She could hear the distressed sounds as the children beheld the food on their trays. She could feel their shock, their disgust.
And, like nothing had ever before, it called to her.
It was grass. On bread. With dirt. Actual dirt. Or maybe not actual dirt, Danny didn't think the school would go that far, but it sure as hell looked like it!
"Don't you think this is a little extreme, Sam?" he asked
The satisfied, dare he say, smug, smile on his best friend's face said no. No she didn't.
No one noticed the teacher's approach until he was suddenly there. "Ah, Miss Manson." Lancer's hand came down on Sam's shoulder and she jumped, startled, and he withdrew his hand. "Sorry. The school board wanted me to personally thank you for ushering in this welcome experiment to our cafeteria."
Tucker's eye twitched as Lancer approached. "Meat...near…!" he mumbled and then actually sniffed Lancer.
Lancer, not at all put off by the teenager's sudden movement, which was decidedly canine, merely held his hands up nervously. "No, no, the rumors about the all-steak buffet in the teacher's lounge are completely untrue."
Danny might have believed it. If the man hadn't chosen that exact moment to raise a toothpick to his lips. Tucker made a strangled sound and Lancer made his escape.
"Thanks again!" he muttered to Sam and hurried off.
"Yeah," Tucker groused, "thanks again for making us eat garbage, Sam."
"It's not garbage," she retorted, holding her turfwich aloft. "It's recyclable organic matter."
"It's garbage," the boys deadpanned.
Sam shrugged. "But it's your lunch, so. Eat up."
Tucker glared down at his plate as if he could transform it into meatloaf through sheer will alone. Danny didn't think that was the sort of thing a ghost could do, though. After a long moment of boring holes into it, Tucker pushed his tray towards Sam and propped his elbow on the table and sulked.
"My all-meat streak is fourteen years strong and I will not be breaking it for this," he declared with a tone of finality.
Danny looked down at his spoonful of, well, turf, and wondered if it would be worth it just so he didn't spend the next few hours hungry.
He would not, however, get a chance to decide, for at that very moment, cold swelled from his center, shooting upwards with a rush of air, and the reflexive exhale which followed was visible. At the same moment, Sam slapped her hand over her own mouth to hide the dark smoke which would follow a feeling that she described as 'like swallowing a chili pepper in reverse' alerted her to the sudden arrival. Tucker's fingers spasmed like they'd been shocked, which was pretty much exactly what it felt like, and he quickly curled them into fists against his chest.
"Oh no," Sam coughed behind her hand.
Tucker glanced between them. "You guys felt that too?"
Danny opened his mouth to confirm but was interrupted by something soft but firm colliding with the back of his head. It wasn't painful, but it got his attention, which is exactly what the boy screaming his surname wanted.
Sam was already halfway out of her seat before Danny even turned to see Dash, butthead in chief of the Casper High student body, came storming over with a plate of mud in hand and a glare that promised pain. Par the course with Dash, really. What wasn't was the awareness of a ghost within their immediate proximity.
"I ordered three mud pies!" Dash shouted. "Do you know what they gave me!? THREE. MUD. PIES. With MUD. FROM THE GROUND!" He narrowed his eyes. "All because of your girlfriend!"
"She's not my girlfriend!"
"I'm not his girlfriend!"
Dash seized the front of Danny's shirt and hefted the smaller boy clean into the air. He paused to set the plate down on the table nearest him then grabbed the front of Danny's shirt with his other hand.
"These are the best years of my life! After high school it's all downhill for me!" He shook him once. "How am I supposed to enjoy my glory days eating mud?!"
"Actually, it's topsoil," replied Sam, not helping.
"Whatever!" Dash snapped, practically throwing Danny back into his table. He snatched the plate from the table beside them and slammed it forcefully down in front of Danny. "Eat it," he growled, "all of it."
Danny sighed and picked up his plastic spork, prepared to once again simply give into Dash's demands to save his own skin—
Ice swelled and Danny's eyes flicked towards movement in his peripheral. A plump woman in a pink uniform glided past the food window. From this distance, it was difficult to make out any details, except her movements were far, far too smooth to be anything but flight. Sam had both hands over her mouth and was looking around frantically but her back was to the ghost and Tucker was too busy watching Dash to notice Danny's pointed look.
Thinking fast, Danny did the first thing which popped into his mind. He grabbed the plate, leaped to his feet, and yelled "GARBAGE FIGHT!" Then he threw the whole thing directly into Dash's face.
What followed was chaos. Pure, unadulterated, chaos.
Though Sam was prepared to go down swinging in the crossfire defending her meal choices, Danny quickly pulled her down to the relatively safety of floor level and gave her a long, tempering look. The three of them crawled as quickly as they could through the throngs of students having the time of their lives in glorious, muddy combat, towards the kitchens. Dash screamed a vow of vengeance and Danny winced but otherwise ignored him.
They slipped into the kitchen unseen. It was surprisingly empty of human staff, and, given that he'd heard no screams before his sense went off, Danny figured something else must have drawn them away. This ghost, though, she was front and center, fussing with a bowl of salad that was, for some reason, not out for the students to choose from. She was a plump woman who, according to Tucker's whisper, somewhat resembled his grandmother. She wore the same pink outfit as the current lunch staff, albeit somewhat faded, including a pair of yellow gloves and white apron. Her short white hair hung loose around her neck, meaning either she'd died before hairnets became a requirement, or simply didn't care to spend her afterlife wearing one. Though why or how anyone could be so devoted to school lunches as to come back wearing the uniform was utterly beyond Danny. As was why she wasn't haunting, like, a bingo hall or something else old people found fun.
"Hello children, can you help me?" she asked sweetly as the door swung shut. She floated towards the trio about a foot off the ground, gesturing with her hands as she spoke. "Today's lunch is meatloaf, but I don't see the meatloaf. Did someone change the menu?"
"Yeah," Tucker replied and jerked his thumb in Sam's direction. "Her."
"Dude," Danny muttered.
The Lunch Lady's sweet smile lingered half a beat longer and then she was suddenly all flames, sharp teeth, and red eyes. "YOU CHANGED THE MENU!?" Her voice reverberated with the fury of a thousand aggrieved culinarians and she began to swell in size.
It was at that moment the three teenagers realized they were prooobably in over their heads.
"THE MENU'S BEEN THE SAME FOR FIFTY YEARS." She let out a roar so loud it caused everything not bolted down to rattle ominously.
Danny let out a wordless yelp and darted in front of Sam and Tucker as if to shield them with his own body.
"Yeah, thanks, I feel sooo much safer," Sam muttered, pushing Danny's arm down. "We doin' this or what?"
"'Or what' sounds good!" Tucker replied, his voice several octaves higher than usual.
Sam scoffed. "Fine! Stay here and hide then! We'll take care of this." She looked at Danny and her bravado…wavered. "You ready?"
He gulped and nodded. "Lets go ghost!"
She grabbed his hand just as he reached inwards towards the cold place deep inside where everything that was Other waited. It answered his call. Light flared around their midsections and swept across their bodies in identical rings. Comfortable clothing gave way to jumpsuits, black hair turned white, and the dull colors of human eyes gave way to otherworldly glowing.
If the Lunch Lady was surprised to see the two of them transform, she didn't show it.
"Back me up, Danny!" Sam's newly echoing voice ordered. She shot into the air in a blur of black and white. Danny followed a bit more slowly. Something about letting Sam take the lead on this just seemed like a bad idea.
"Listen, you!" his best friend shouted at the vengeful spirit. "That menu you're so fond of is from the fifties! This is the twenty-first century! There is nothing wrong with change!"
"That's not for you to decide, you ungrateful brat!" the ghost snapped and the row of stoves began to rattle ominously. "I control lunch! Lunch is sacred! Lunch has rules!"
"Uh, not really?" Danny said and then winced as she turned her flaming eyes on him. "I-I mean—it's not that big of a deal? Maybe?"
Y'know, for a kid who grew up hearing about ghosts day and night from his parents, you'd think he'd remember certain key facts about how ghosts worked. Like how all ghosts were supposed to have that one thing which kept them going past their natural lifespans. That thing which became everything to them. For this woman, somehow, that thing was apparently school lunch.
He should have kept his mouth shut.
The Lunch Lady let out another unholy roar and this time her cry was echoed by the ovens as they began to spew unnatural green fire. At the same moment, her glowing hands hurtled a dozen plates directly at the half-ghost children. Sam jerked herself upwards and out of the way, leaving Danny to frantically try and catch them.
"Would you get your butt in gear?!" Sam screamed at their 'teammate', still human on the ground.
"Okay, okay!" he cried, clenching his fists and screwing up his eyes. For all of his boasted progress earlier, Tucker actually had the least control out of any of them. Sure, Sam was levitating at least once an hour and Danny had the tendency to go intangible when he got nervous, but at least they could transform at will. "Come on," he muttered. "Come on. Think ghostly thoughts! Come on."
"TUCKER!" Danny screamed.
He peeked one eye open just in time to see a line of plates coming straight for his head. Tucker yelped, throwing his hands up to protect his face, and wished he was anywhere but here—
And suddenly found himself crashing into a table somewhere very much not there.
Somebody screamed.
Danny and Sam stared at the spot where Tucker had been an instant before, their sixth senses helpfully supplying what their others failed to grasp. Tucker was gone. He'd physically moved, though neither could tell how far, only that he was no longer in the room. Instantaneously. The plates shattered harmlessly against the wall near the door. A moment passed and they glanced at each other in confusion. Danny shook his head quickly and turned to face the Lunch Lady once more.
She snarled at them. "Lunch is the lifeblood of the student body! Lunch gets you through the day! And you need protein for that!"
"And there are plenty of plant-based alternatives which are better!" Sam shot back, fists clenched at her sides. "For someone so obsessed with feeding kids, you sure don't know a thing about—"
"Uh, Sam?" Danny interrupted but it was far too late.
"Oh, you think so?" The Lunch Lady spat. "We'll see about that, child!" Still flaming green, she rose into the air and disappeared through the ceiling.
Sam growled and started after her but Danny caught her by the wrist. "Sam! Would you give it a rest?!"
She whirled on him, golden eyes blazing with fury. At the same moment, the row of ovens started snarling, and the two ghost teenagers whipped around in surprise. They weren't just spewing unnatural fire anymore, oh no, that crazy bat had somehow brought them to life! Their oven doors had disappeared completely, leaving gaping, fanged maws which spewed flames, and beady eyes. With eyebrows.
When they lunged, Danny and Sam screamed in unison. Thinking quickly, or perhaps not even thinking at all, Danny went intangible and flew through the nearest wall, pulling Sam with him. Intangibility was apparently beyond the skills of the sentient ovens and they collided with the wall in a cacophony of metal and ungodly screams. Danny popped back into tangibility just in time to hit the floor in the hallway behind the kitchen.
They flipped and rolled a few times as the excess momentum wore off and ended up in a tangle of glowing limbs on the floor.
Danny blinked at the locker three inches from his nose…and then a grin stretched across his features as he realized what he'd managed to do. On command, no less. "Ha!" he laughed, scrambling to his feet. "It worked!"
Sam, on the other hand, was too busy fuming to be impressed. "Seriously?" she growled as she pushed herself to her feet. "This is the thanks I get for thinking like an individual? I swear, I'm gonna—"
"Sam, stop." He grabbed her upper arms and prayed the seriousness in his tone would get through to her. "Trust me when I say, there is no way you are going to win this argument with her. Lunch is her 'unfinished business' or something. All you'll do is tick her off even more than you already have."
Her golden eyes narrowed dangerously. "I'm sorry, which one of us told her lunch isn't sacred?"
"Okay, any more than we have. Happy?"
"No. And where's Tucker?" She looked around. "I thought he'd just gone invisible or something but—"
There was a sound like thunder from above and the whereabouts of their missing friend suddenly was the last thing on their minds.
It didn't seem fair to Danny that a normal, forty-something teacher was able to haul him to the office like a misbehaving dog when he was the one with the super powers here but that really was just his life now.
"Mr. Lancer, please," Danny tried for the third time, "you have to listen to me. Sam—"
"Will be joining you both shortly, don't you worry, Mr. Fenton."
"But she—wait. Both?" Danny perked up, despite himself. "You found Tucker?"
Mr. Lancer's scowl turned annoyed. "'Found' is not exactly the word I would use."
He didn't offer anymore information and Danny knew better than to press him for details. He glanced at Dash over his shoulder and the quarterback grinned nastily at him. Danny whipped his head around quickly, heaved a sigh, and allowed himself to be directed into Mr. Lancer's office. Where, if his odd sixth sense was correct, Tucker was waiting.
Sure enough, when the door opened, there he was, perched contritely on a plastic chair in front of Mr. Lancer's desk. He had a few strange stains on the front of his shirt but other than that, he seemed entirely unharmed. He was staring intently at the door and though Danny saw a flicker of relief at his arrival, Tucker pressed his lips together when his eyes confirmed what his sixth sense must have been telling him: Sam wasn't with them.
"Where's Sam?" Tucker whispered as Danny was dropped into the empty chair beside him.
"As I told Mr. Fenton, she will be joining you shortly."
"B-but, Mr. Lancer," Danny stammered, "she didn't—I mean—whatever you think's going on here, Sam didn't have anything to do with it. Really."
Lancer fixed him with a stern look and walked around his desk to a large file cabinet. He pulled open the drawer labeled 'freshman'.
"Where did you go?" Danny hissed as softly as he could manage.
Tucker gulped. "Um…."
"Tucker Foley," Mr Lancer read aloud. "Chronic tardiness, talking in class, repeated loitering by the girls locker room…."
The fact that Tucker didn't so much as react to any of those marks on his record spoke volumes in Danny's opinion. He really hadn't just gone invisible. But what else was possible?
"Danny Fenton," Lancer went on and Danny nearly winced. "Thirty-four dropped beakers in the last month, banned for life from handling all fragile school property, but no severe mischief before today. So, gentlemen…" He dropped their files on his desk and smiled. Neither one of them bought it for an instant.
"Why did the two of you conspire to destroy the school cafeteria?!"
Danny would've liked to say he didn't recoil, but, well.
"We didn't!" Tucker yelped at the same moment Danny argued, "Dash started it!"
Lancer drew back. "Not according to the other students."
"But he threw—"
"Four touchdown passes in the last game and is thereby exempt from scorn. You two, however, are not." Lancer folded his arms.
Tucker clenched his fists. "But Dash—"
"Also did not throw himself onto the buffet table in the teacher's lounge."
Danny blinked. Turned his head towards Tucker. Glanced at the stains on his shirt. Tucker met his gaze and shrugged sheepishly.
"I'll be mapping out your punishments when I return." Mr. Lancer announced and walked over to the door. "I advise you both to sit here and consider your actions in the meantime. Mr. Baxter, guard the door."
"Yes, sir, Mr. Lancer, sir," Dash replied and threw a mean smirk in their direction the moment Lancer's back was turned.
The door slammed shut and Danny rounded on his best friend. "You did what?!"
"It wasn't like I meant to!" Tucker cried, leaping to his feet. "One second I was in the kitchen with you guys and the next, I'm face first in the steak buffet in the teacher's lounge! Which was totally real, by the way. I have no idea what happened! But where is Sam?!"
"The ghost took her," Danny explained, scrubbing his hands across his cheeks. "We were fighting in the hallway. I accidentally transformed back to normal and got swatted like a fly. By the time I was back up, they were gone, and then Lancer had me."
Tucker groaned. "This is my fault, isn't it?"
"At this point, Tuck, I think it's all our faults."
"We have to find her."
"Duh," Danny replied and reached for his ghostly half once more. It responded to his call without issue or hesitation and where was that when he'd needed it earlier?
His sixth sense told him Sam was somewhere below him but beyond that, it was difficult to say. As far as he could tell, she was on the move, and fast, which meant she'd probably managed to free herself…and was probably being chased. Frowning, he flew over to the panel of security cameras Lancer had on the far wall. He didn't expect the ghost herself to be visible on them but maybe they could find some kind of clue or….
Or maybe he could see Sam fly by right in front of his eyes with a familiar glob of meat in hot pursuit. That worked, too.
"There she is!" Danny pointed to the screen labeled BAS-2 then whirled around, expecting to see Tuck in his own ghostly form, ready to go. But he was just standing there. Human.
"Come on, we gotta go!"
"I–um–well you see, the thing is—"
"Tucker!" He nearly shouted, glanced furtively at the door, then lowered his voice to a loud whisper, "Would you please just change already!"
"I can't! I haven't figured out how!"
Danny stared, nonplussed. "Seriously?"
"Yes!"
"It's been a month and you still—oh crud." He could hear Lancer coming back. "We'll talk about this later. Can you at least go intangible?" Tucker nodded and Danny grabbed his hand. "Good. Hang on!"
They both turned intangible and Danny pulled them down into the floor just as the door to Lancer's office swung open. Whatever his reaction to their disappearance would have been was lost as they sank beneath tile, stone, piping, and wiring to the basement below.
They found Sam dodging chicken legs in 'BAS-2', which turned out to be some sort of meat locker. Tucker had a bit of a moment when he realized what had been lying beneath their feet this whole time but, thankfully, was pulled back to the task at hand when Sam went hurtling by.
"What took you guys so long?!"
"Lancer," Danny shouted after her then had to duck to avoid a sirloin.
"YOU!" The Lunch Lady hissed and both boys whirled around. Tucker yelped and promptly became intangible to avoid a barrage of hamburger patties. Danny, uncowed, leaped into the air and jabbed his finger at the ghost's face.
"Would you knock it off?! We don't want the menu changed anymore than you do—"
"Hey!" Sam protested from somewhere across the room.
"—but this is not how you solve anything!
To his utter shock, the Lunch Lady slowed to a halt. She floated a few feet away, eye-level with him, and narrowed her eyes. Though pieces of assorted meats continued to swirl and swam around her, after a long moment, the flames emanating from her skin diminished, and so did she.
When the Lunch Lady had come to deliver her reckoning, she had expected to find some interloper in her place. Some other woman wearing her uniform, feeding her students. Oh, there was one, to be sure, but she hadn't been in the kitchen when the Lunch Lady arrived. She'd tacked on 'abandoning her post' to the list of the woman's crimes (the first of which was existing) then went about looking for the meatloaf. She hadn't expected to learn that a mere child, not the interloper, had somehow convinced the school board to change her menu. (That was not to say they were off the hook. In the end, it was the adults who had the final say in how things went around here, this she knew well.)
And she certainly hadn't expected to find three young ghosts in residence at her school!
She folded her arms and considered the two boys in front of her: one still intangible, and the other trying is hardest to look intimidating (and failing spectacularly). The girl was…somewhere. Close. She had quite the mouth on her but apart from being disrespectful and rude, she wasn't fighting back. None of them were. And the Lunch Lady wondered.
"You kids are…new, aren't you."
The intangible kid's eyes popped open and he and the floating boy glanced at each other.
"Th-this is our first semester," the intangible boy replied. She scowled at him and he shrank back.
The floating boy drifted to the side, placing himself between her and the other, she noted. Despite this, his voice was hesitant when he asked, "Do you mean new ghosts?"
The Lunch Lady inclined her head.
"Um. Yes. Ma'am. Yes, ma'am."
Well at least one of them had manners.
Her scowl returned. That certainly explained why they weren't fighting back. It was probably taking all their energy to maintain enough control over these human kids whose bodies they were riding around in. More like as not, they'd fallen through a natural portal and had gotten stuck. But that gave them no right to invade her school and change her menu. Not that she'd had a chance to claim the school, as such, but now with that stable portal nearby, it was hers for the taking! These children, no matter how old they were, had only just arrived. They had no claim on that which had been hers for fifty years!
But, they were young. Someone had to teach them the way of things.
"Alright, sweeties," she crooned, clasping her hands together. "You're absolutely right. There's no need for violence. I'm sure we can work this whole mess out."
The boys stared at her. Further down the aisle, the rude girl's head peeked around one of the boxes.
"You…what?" the floating boy squeaked.
"Obviously there's been a terrible misunderstanding," she went on. "I don't want to fight you! We could even help each other!"
Slowly, the floating boy lowered himself to the ground by his friend whose own body was returning to tangibility. The rude girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously and didn't come down from her perch. That was annoying but, no, no, this would do for now.
"You see, children, this is my school. For fifty-two years I worked here, serving lunches to you kids. Why, I'm the one who designed the menu you still eat today! Or should be," she hissed and threw the rude girl a look which was returned with equal venom. Brat. But no, no. Calm. "And this also happens to be the place where I died, which makes it mine. Unless…" she paused, frowning. She hadn't considered this. "You died here as well?"
"Uh, no ma'am," said the floating boy, whose legs had dissolved into a wispy tail the color of his jumpsuit.
"Wonderful! Then there's no reason for us to fight! I don't want to hurt you kids, I only want what's mine and for things to be as they should be!"
"But it's our school," the grounded boy protested. "We go here!"
She narrowed her eyes at him and this time the anger swimming through her refused to be fully quelled. "You lost that right when you changed my menu, children."
"B-but we didn't! I didn't!" The boy placed his hands on his chest. "I love meat! I love meatloaf day! And so does Danny!" He pointed to the floating boy.
The Lunch Lady tisked but considered the boys once more. Neither of them had outright attacked her and, really, she couldn't blame them for being defensive of what they thought was theirs. So long as they learned their place, she could, perhaps, permit them to attend classes here…. After all, neither would be stepping on her toes if all they wanted to do was attend classes.
"Perhaps—" But then the rude girl floated out from behind her boxes and put her hands on her hips. A challenge. And her anger, like boiling soup left unattended, bubbling viciously, swelled towards the surface. "That one," she growled, failing to notice the way the floating boy tensed once more, "isn't welcome here."
"Yes," the floating boy interrupted and began to rise into the air once more. Another challenge. "She is."
The Lunch Lady's eyes flicked to the self-proclaimed meat-lover. So did the floating boy's. He glanced between them for a moment and then puffed out his chest. "Yeah! We're a package deal!"
Well, then. That was that.
Danny wondered what it said about him and his life that the fact she turned into a giant meat monster wasn't the most surprising part of that whole encounter.
