What do you mean it's been two months since I updated? You're obviously delusional.

Chapter Five: Spotter

Danny was woken by the highly intrusive sound of his alarm clock. The insistent beeping sent a shock through him and he jolted awake, jumping out of his bed to search the room with wild eyes. It took him several seconds to realize that there weren't any ghosts or their freaky familiars prowling around anywhere.

He sighed and closed his eyes, rubbing his forehead with a lost expression. The day before had been strange, to say the least. To be completely truthful, he didn't know what to make of it; he'd struggled with emerging ghost powers the whole day, despairing the apparent loss of his humanity, regaining a bit of cheer at the discovery of his ghostly ability to fly – only to have said ability put to the test when he had to fight for his life against another ghost.

He frowned at the thought and brought his hands down to inspect them. Some part of him expected them to show how much his body had changed, but they looked exactly the same as two days ago. Nothing had changed, really. But nothing is the same, either, he thought glumly.

Still lost in thought, he started picking up his clothes from where he'd dropped them the day before, donning them as he made his way towards the bathroom. When he'd finished he went downstairs, only to freeze at the doorway to the kitchen.

His family was sitting around the table. Jazz had her nose buried in a book – as usual – and only paused in her reading to throw a disapproving glance at their parents, who were busying themselves with fixing or designing ghost weapons. That wasn't really unusual, but Danny couldn't help but take a step back at the sight of his mother brandishing a heavy-looking rifle with a smile on her face. The weapons didn't used to bother him at all; why should they? But that was before he'd become part-ghost himself. Now the sight of the two of them – with their menagerie of weapons and anti-ghost tools – made him almost afraid of sitting with his family.

Is this what it's going to be like every day from now on? He thought as he eyes the weapons fearfully. I can't take this! They're basically showing me what they're going to use to shoot and catch me with! … and not necessarily in that order! Next they'll be telling me the best way to dissect a ghost!

As he considered foregoing breakfast to sneak off to school instead, Jazz looked up and saw him standing awkwardly in the doorway. She lowered her psychology book and frowned at him. "Danny? Is there something wrong?" his parents tore their eyes away from their inventions at the sound of her voice and looked from their daughter to their son with confused and slightly concerned eyes.

He quickly brought his hands up to wave away their questioning glances. "No!" he croaked, as always a terrible liar, "Everything is fine!" he tried smiling, but it came out as a half-grimace, making his sister narrow her eyes in suspicion. Great job, Fenturd, why don't you tell her that you're a ghost while you're at it?

"I don't know, you look a little pale, little bro…" she said with a frown, looking at him from head to toe and back, probably trying to figure out what was up with him.

"You aren't still feeling faint after being attacked by that foul ghost boy yesterday, are you, sweety? Two attacks in two days …" his mother asked him as she put down her ecto-rifle.

He was starting to sweat under their scrutinizing gazes. His eyes searched the room, trying to find an excuse to leave and finally decided on the well-used fallback option.

"Uh, yes, well – I have to go meet Sam and Tuck! I'll see you guys when I get home!"

As he darted out of the kitchen, his sister hurriedly got out of her seat, grabbing her book and shoving it into her bag. As he slammed the front door after him, he heard her call, "Danny, Wait! I'll drive you to sch-!"

He ran down the street as fast as he could before Jazz could catch up to him. A couple of minutes later, he stopped and glanced back to make sure she wasn't following him. His friends weren't waiting for him; he hadn't had a chance to agree to meet with them last time he saw them, so he couldn't be sure if they were getting to school by some other means of transportation.

He let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall. It had only been two days – less, actually – but he was already cracking up under the pressure and no one even suspected him of anything yet! They only noticed he was acting strangely and wanted to help him. How ironic that his reason for worrying was the fact that he wasn't worth their concern…

He squeezed his eyes shut. No, that's not true. I may be half ghost, but I'm still Danny and I'm still human – right? He didn't know what to think. Everything was happening so fast; ghosts actually exist, his parents were right and his sister was wrong – that was almost the most shocking bit – and he'd been changed into another species, apparently.

And he was the only one of his kind.

He felt a pang in his heart at the thought. He'd never really felt lonely in his life before. Sure, he wished the majority of the school didn't think he was worthless, but he'd always had his family, and he'd been inseparable from Sam and Tucker from the day they met. But now it was as though there was a distance between them; he didn't know how to explain, or how they would take it. Judging from their – truthfully, completely reasonable – reaction to the Lunchlady, they probably weren't going to be too fond of what happened to him.

It's not like I've done something wrong, he sulked, scowling at nothing in particular. This is so unfair. In reality, he knew it was more than just unfair, what with his parents' obsession and his psycho-stalker ghost who wanted to kill his dad for something he (probably) hadn't done. But he'd been worrying over the accident since it happened, and now that he was starting to doubt that his ghost side would ever disappear, he'd only grown more frantic. It helped to treat the problem like a childish matter of teenage-angst. It made him feel more normal, even if he knew he was nowhere near the definition of normal anymore.

He let his head fall back and gazed absentmindedly at the sky. The soft, white clouds floated across the wide expanse without a care, and he felt a longing in his chest. I wish I could just fly away… he blinked. Then he grinned. He couldn't fly away and leave it all behind, exactly – it wouldn't really solve his problems with his friends and family, anyway – but he could fly to school, at least.

With a quick look around him to see if anyone was watching he slinked into an alleyway where he closed his eyes and searched for the cold feeling of his ghost core. He expected some difficulty, but it sprung to life the moment he willed it to appear. It was strangely liberating when the cold twin rings passed his body, replacing it with a much less corporeal one. It was as though he'd shed his earthly worries along with his humanity.

Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the sky again. He crouched and jumped into the air. After wobbling a bit, he found his centre and hovered easily above the cemented street.

He shot into the sky with a huge smile.

A soft sound of mechanical whirs and metal plates scraping against each other was heard throughout the quiet study. Despite the fire burning merrily in the fireplace on one side of the room, the surroundings were mostly in darkness.

In front of the fireplace were two plush and elegant armchairs upholstered in dark red fabric. In one of them sat a man with his silver hair in a ponytail. He was staring into the flames with dark eyes, looking for all the world as though he was trying to snuff out the only source of light in the room with his own scowl.

The man didn't even glance up at his guest when the armor- and steel-covered ghost slid into the armchair beside him. They sat in silence for a few seconds before the spectre evidently lost its patience and leaned towards the man the meticulous business suit.

"Why did you call me here, Plasmius?" he asked ill-concealed impatience.

Vlad's gaze finally turned towards his guest as he sneered, "Watch your tone, Skulker. I will not tolerate your impertinence."

Skulker swallowed visibly but refused to wince at his employer's irritation. He was, after all, the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter. No one was more terrifying than him.

Except, perhaps, Vlad Plasmius.

"Sorry, Plasmius. I was just wondering why you called me out of my lair if you're just going to stare down your human-world fire."

The man smirked as he leaned back in his chair. He propped his elbows on the armrests and folded his hands in front of his face, glaring at the ghost with an evaluating expression. "Tell me, Skulker… have you heard of Amity Park?"

The ghost's eyebrows lifted in curiosity, "Amity Park? Yes, I think I heard a few of the other ghosts mentioned that town… that crazy elderly, food-fixated woman wouldn't shut up about it. She said there was a stable, permanent portal … but that can't be true, can it? Isn't yours the only one?" he asked with a frown.

Vlad sighed, "Not any longer, it seems. Some of my, ah… acquaintances have recently developed their own Ghost Portal. They have no doubt let it stay open since it was first turned on… since shutting it off would be a tad difficult, with the switch inside the portal." He mumbled the last part with a bemused expression.

Skulker blinked. "… your friends don't seem too smart."

The ghost drew back in shock when the hybrid's eyes flared an angry red. "They're not my friends!" but then he seemed to catch himself, and he coughed subtly into his hand and relaxed back into his seat. "Well, one of them isn't. In any case, that is not what I called you here to discuss."

Skulker resisted the temptation of rolling his eyes at his employer's moodswings and asked instead, "What can I help you with, then, Plasmius?"

The smirk was back on the man's face and Skulker was sure that he'd been drawing his weapons right about now if he wasn't in the hybrid's employment. "There is a new… ghost in Amity Park. One which interests me greatly."

Skulker's eyebrows rose. What kind of 'new' ghost can attract Vlad Master's attention? Whatever that poor sprite's managed to do, it can't be good. "I see. How does your interest in this vic-ghost involve me?"

"I wish to… keep an eye on him. Unfortunately, I can't be everywhere at once, so I'm afraid I'll have to call in your expertise to… watch over the boy." The man said with a shrug.

Boy? "But can't you just duplicate yourself and have your clone stalk him?"

Vlad's eyes narrowed as he sent the ghost a seething glare. Skulker tried not to flinch. "I am not stalking him. I am just…" Vlad glanced into the flames and another smirk spread across his features, "watching over him. I wouldn't want my newest project to bite off more than he can chew. And in answer to your question; maintaining a duplicate for that long over several days is just too taxing, especially when I can send you. Besides, stealth isn't my strong forte. It is yours."

Skulker knew Vlad was baiting him, but he just couldn't help but bite. "True, I am the greatest hunter in the Ghost Zone, after all. There's no prey I can't shadow. Even if it's usually for the sake of my collection."

Vlad's smirk grew into an outright smile, and Skulker could almost hear him think the words; hook, line, sinker. "Good. So you see why I thought you would be up to the task. But remember, Skulker, he isn't your prey," his expression suddenly grew dark, his smile just an inch shy of manic, "he is mine."

Sam scowled at the ebony-haired boy as he neared his locker. Danny took one look into her stormy eyes before freezing where he stood with an expression of near-horror.

"H-hi, Sam, what's up?" he tried asking with a goofy smile that almost – almost – melted her rage then and there, but she steeled herself and held onto the anger.

"Oh, not much. Just hanging out by my best friend's locker, after a terrifying ghost attack yesterday, during which said friend showed some pretty worrying ghostly symptoms and later was apparently knocked out by a ghost if you believe what the teachers are whispering about." Her glare intensified and her eyes narrowed at the nervous boy in front of her, "But that couldn't possibly have happened, 'cause my friend would have surely called me to let me know he was alright and not suffering from amnesia or internal bleeding or…!"

By now people where sending her annoyed looks, but no one seemed particularly surprised at her outburst. The rumours of Danny's epic 'beat-down' by the Apron-Ghost, as the teenagers called it for some reason, had spread throughout the halls of Casper High that morning like a forest fire on speed. By now, the whole school had heard how Danny Fenton had gotten his behind handed to him and was now suffering several severe injuries and was in a coma state.

Obviously the rumours were over exaggerated, but Sam had still felt that nasty jab of fear when one of the cheerleaders had asked her if she was single now that her boyfriend had been pummelled by the ghost. She knew it couldn't have been that bad, or his responsible sister would have made sure to call her and Tucker, but still. If he was hurt, then why hadn't he told her? Why did she have to find out from an alphabet-chanting pom-pom girl?

"Woah, hold on, Sam! It wasn't that bad at all! I wasn't even knocked out!" he held his hands up in a pacifying gesture and took a step back.

She stopped her ranting, mostly because she realized how embarrassing the situation was becoming, but she couldn't deny the relief she felt at his words. Even if his parents knew a lot about ghosts –despite never having seen one before – she wasn't completely convinced that interaction with these dead – undead? – creatures was entirely healthy for a human body.

"Good, 'cause if you were injured, then I would have killed you!" she said tersely, ignoring how her words contradicted each other. It was all for a good cause.

"What did you do now, Danny?" came Tucker's voice from behind her, and she turned to see the boy approach them with an amused grin. "Good to see you haven't joined the ranks of the deceased, by the way." He walked up and gave Danny's shoulder a friendly punch.

Seeing that his friend's appearance had distracted her, the boy smiled back at Tucker. "Thanks, Tuck. I really appreciate your concern."

Tucker's eyes widened. "Concern? Who's concerned? I just don't want to have to look for someone else to play Doomed with."

Danny tried to look angry, but the effect was ruined by his laugh. "Geez, Tuck, at least Sam cares more about my health than our high score!"

Sam sighed, knowing that the argument was lost. If there had even been an argument in the first place. "Just… call or something next time, alright?" she mumbled, averting her eyes with a blush. This was getting close to dangerous territory.

Danny nodded with a smile, obviously relieved at getting off the hook. "Right, Sam. I'll do that." he said, before he turned to his locker and started fumbling with his books.

Sam frowned at him and exchanged a look with Tucker, who quirked an eyebrow at her in puzzlement. Danny was definitely not acting like his usual self and he seemed way too quick to change the topic of the conversation. For someone who'd just survived a ghost attack, you'd think he'd talk about nothing else. Instead, it's like he's trying to pretend nothing happened. She scowled at her friend as she felt her anger rise again. He was hiding something from them.

She crossed her arms across her chest and narrowed her eyes at him. "Danny." He turned his head towards her, "What aren't you telling us?"

His eyes widened comically at her accusation and hurriedly turned back to his locker, hands pulling books out and placing them back inside it at random. "What do you mean, Sam? Y-you know I tell you guys everything."

"Yeah," Tucker said slowly, "you do. Don't you?"

For some reason, that simple question seemed to shut their friend up. His mouth hung open for a while before he closed it with a snap and a guilty expression. "I… Okay, guys, don't freak out when I tell you this, but when that ghost attacked I sort of –"

"Are you still blaming ghosts?!" an exasperated and overbearing voice cut him off. The three friends turned to see Jazz walking towards them with a stern expression and what was probably a psychology 101 text-book under her arm. "I know it must have been traumatic, little brother, but disassociating from the event like that is very bad for your mental health. You need to accept what really happened!"

Sam lifted an eyebrow at the huffing redhead. "Excuse you, Jazz. Danny was about to tell us –"

"What do you mean 'what really happened'?" Danny asked, his face slightly scrunched up in confusion before it suddenly fled, only for surprise to take its place. "You don't mean you still think that we were attacked by burglars, do you? Your saw that Lunchlady ghost yesterday, right?!"

Jazz shook her head at him and pinned him with a hard look. "Danny, you know what happened couldn't possibly have been –" her eyes widened a bit and she looked thoughtful as she cut herself off, apparently changing her mind on what to say. "Of course. It was a ghost… not burglars. I'm sorry, I suppose I'm just having some trouble adjusting to this whole 'ghosts exists'-thing." she smiled unconvincingly and the two boys stared at her uncomprehendingly. "Wh-what I meant was… that you obviously have some psychological scarring from how you reacted to mom and dad's ghostweapons this morning. You shouldn't bottle up you worries like that! Remember, you can always talk to me, right, little brother?"

What a load of bull, Sam thought, her lips twitching in amusement at the older girl's poor acting. She obviously doesn't believe in ghosts. Didn't she see the glowing apron-lady? Or does she think it was a very well-coordinated mass-hallucination? Realizing that Jazz had made her lose her chance at finding out whatever Danny had been hiding, she leaned back against a locker with a bored expression on her pale face. She'd get him to tell her eventually. She always did.

Danny looked into his sister's eyes with clear suspicion, and Sam smirked. Yeah, even Danny 'clueless' Fenton would notice something wrong there.

"Uh. Yeah, sure, Jazz…" he said, looking a bit sullen. Strange; if he knew that Jazz was lying he would be angry. Is this about the thing he isn't telling us?

Apparently his sister agreed with her, because she bit her lip and looked at him with worry. She reached her hand out towards him. "Danny – " but her voice was cut off by the school bell, and she let her hand drop with a frowning glance at the speakers. "I have to get to class but… let's talk later, ok?"

Danny avoided her eyes as he nodded with a non-committal grunt. Apparently deciding that she wasn't going to get a clearer answer out of him, she turned and left them at a quick stride.

Tucker lifted his hat and scratched the back of his head as Sam rolled her eyes. "Dude, what was that about? She usually acts like you're not even related, so why the sudden sibling-concern?"

Danny sighed. "I think this ghost situation has made her go a little nuts. She's been acting out of sorts since the first one appeared in our basement. It's like she thinks she can turn back the clock if she can have the rest of us believe nothing weird happened."

"Yeah, that sounds like your sister, alright." Sam remarked dryly as the three of them started making their way to English. "Look, Danny, I don't know what's up with you, but –"

"There's nothing wrong!" Danny interrupted her, clearly frustrated. When he saw her startled expression, he softened his tone. "Really. It's fine. I'm fine."

She let her surprise melt into a scowl. "Sure, Danny. You don't need us." With that she turned and left them. She didn't need eyes in the back of her head to know that the boys where exchanging looks, but right then, she didn't care. Danny could come crawling back when he needed their help.

Danny was trying very hard not to shove his face into his palm. Or his desk. Or the wall.

Sam wasn't going to let it go, he realized. She knew him too well, and he couldn't hide how stressed he was to them, and Sam just had this way of getting past his shields.

He just didn't know what to say to her; how do you explain something like this? He'd have to show them and he didn't think that'd go over well. All the ghosts he'd seen so far had been pretty malevolent. Even if Plasmius seemed to like him – and he really doubted that the ghost actually felt responsible for what happened to him – both of them had still been volatile and insane.

He didn't want his friends to look at him like he wasn't human. But more than that, he didn't want to admit that he really wasn't human. He'd somehow managed to keep it in til Sam started prying, but he couldn't deny it any longer.

Frankly, he was scared. He'd followed the rabbit into the ghost portal and now he was trapped in an ectoplasmic wonderland where nothing was like it should be. Wait, does that make Plasmius the Queen of Hearts? I'm not sure if I should be laughing or crying.

Suddenly, it was a bit harder not slam his face into the desk.

What the fudge am I even thinking about? Fairytales? I'm really out of my depth here.

In an effort to quell the disaster area that was his mind, he tried paying attention to his class teacher instead. After staring blankly at Mr. Lancer for some unmeasurable amount of time, he felt a cold tickling sensation in his midsection.

He closed his eyes. What now? He thought tiredly. What is going to mess up my life now?

The feeling spread throughout his chest, and he recognized the cold tendrils from the day before and his eyes widened. The last time he'd felt this, the Lunchlady had been messing around in the school kitchen.

Is it the Lunchlady again? Was if Plasmius or another ghost entirely?

A new one?

No, this isn't my responsibility! He thought furiously. Just because I know there's a ghost in the school, doesn't mean that there's any reason for me to –

But what if it could feel him, too? The Lunchlady just had to show up near him? Why was Plasmius in the bathroom yesterday, if it wasn't because he could feel his presence, like Danny could feel his? Come to think of it, I don't remember feeling anything when he showed up… but then again, I was a bit preoccupied…

If the ghost could feel him, and if what his would-be-mentor said about ghosts' territorial tendencies were true, then it might just seek him out – and if it appeared here, in his classroom with all these people around, looking for a fight … he couldn't fight without any of his ghost powers, which meant that he'd have to change in front of his classmates.

He swallowed nervously, but he knew that he didn't have a choice. If he was going to be forced to fight no matter what, he'd rather keep his condition to himself.

He got up, and every head turned to him at the sound of his chair scraping against the floor. Mr. Lancer raised an eyebrow at him. "Mr. Fenton, is there something you want to share with the rest of your peers?"

Danny blinked and looked around at the curious faces staring at him. Sam was still mad, and pretended not to care, but Tucker seemed amused. Danny smiled sheepishly at the worn-out teacher, an ducked his head. "Umh, no, sir. I just need to… use the bathroom?"

Lancer held his eyes with an unamused expression, and Danny got the distinct impression that the man didn't believe a word he just told him. What, it's not weird that a high school student has to use the bathroom, is it? I mean, come on…

Finally the teacher let out a long-suffering sigh and waved him off. "Go ahead, Mr. Fenton. Try not to get lost on your way back, hm?"

What does he mean by 'lost'? He thought, before he said "Sure thing, Mr. Lancer!" and raced out the door, with half the class snickering behind him. What was so funny about that? Honestly…

He stood in the hallway for a second, trying to decide what to do. Should he find some place to wait for the ghost? But who knew how long it would take the ghost to notice him? Plasmius would probably advise him to find the ghost before it found him. Man, I'm already acting like he's my 'mentor'. That guy – ghost- really has a way of getting under your skin. Do he and Sam take lessons from the same place?

Deciding that a pre-emptive strike was the best defence, he realized that he might as well go to the bathroom to transform into his ghost form.

Skulker flew in circles above the human-adolescents' institution, frowning at his locator. Plasmius had explained that the ghost boy would appear in this area, if he appeared at all, but there was no trace of him. Surely this new ghost couldn't make his own portal from the ghost zone? Although it would explain his employer's interest.

"This is a waste of my time." he grumbled to himself, "I am the ghost zone's greatest hunter! How dare he sent me on a hunt for prey that won't even come out for a fair fight? Hrumph." What was so interesting about this ghost, anyway? Vlad Masters usually asked for his expertise in hunting down ghosts that the hybrid either wanted to employ or destroy. Sometimes he'd steal various things for him when Plasmius were either too busy to bother phasing through walls himself, or simply wanted to make a security guard look foolish by insisting that the thief was a techno-ghost.

Just as he was about to call it quits, a dot appeared on his locator and his eyebrows shot up in surprise. If that was the ghost boy, then he'd really appeared out of nowhere. Had he really made a portal? Whatever the case, this sounded like a rare ghost.

Perhaps I should keep him for myself, he thought, it's been a while since I last added to my collection…

He fired up his rockets and shot in direction of the unnamed ghost; it seemed to be aiming for the dumpsters behind the institution.

Whatever does he want there? Is he dumpster diving?

Remembering his orders to shadow the ghost –and not to fight him – he turned himself invisible before landing on the roof overlooking the containers with human garbage.

He was only mildly surprised to the Box Ghost there, going through some boxes left outside for whatever reason. The only unique thing about that annoying dime-a-dozen ghost had, was the ability to pop up everywhere and constantly. It was very distracting when Skulker was looking for prey to chase, especially when the box-brained ghost kept thinking he wanted to steal his boxes.

But he was surprised when a white and black ghost phased through the wall and stared at the overall-clad blue ghost. There were several peculiar things about him, even excluding his weird, almost human-coloring.

And why is he standing on the ground, when he can fly so easily? This child makes no sense.

He observed as the white-haired teenage ghost approached the irate Square-Container Ghost and struck up a conversation with him… which mostly consisted of various formulations of 'get off my lawn', to which the Square-Headed Ghost replied with a negative.

As in; he began throwing boxes at the kid.

Skulker rolled his eyes, thoroughly unamused by the usual theatrics of this well-known nuisance. He almost felt tempted to help the kid out, if only to be spared the constant yapperings of 'Beware!', but reminded himself that Plasmius wanted him to stay hidden. Besides, he wasn't going to assist possible prey.

"Oh, come on! Why can't you just leave?!" the teen screamed in a squeaky voice. Anyone could see that he hadn't been in many fights yet; apparently he really was a new ghost, even if he seemed to already have a stable form. Interesting.

"You will NOT keep me from my marvellous cardboard containers! I AM THE BOX GHOST!"

"Yeah, you've said that like twenty times already!"

"Then perhaps it is time for me to think outside of the box!" The blue menace yelled dramatically, lifting his hands above his head with a furious smile. Is he enjoying this? Skulker wondered. I think he is. Hmm…

A box lifted with the motion of the ghost's arms, covered in an eerie, purplish glow.

The platinum-haired child-ghost groaned and slapped a hand on his face. "Oh, I knew I was going to regret this." He said, as the box went straight for him, knocking the child into the brick wall of the school.

The hunter winced. "Uh, that gotta hurt." But then his eyes widened as the child moaned and held his head in pain as a white light appeared around him and transformed him from a ghost child … into a human boy.

Skulker gaped. He stared.

A halfa. A ghost-human hybrid.

Just like his employer.

So that's why this ghost child is of such great interest to Plasmius! He's another hybrid. But how? He said he was the product of sabotage when he was making…

A ghost portal. With his colleagues.

"…Some of my, ah… acquaintances have recently developed their own Ghost Portal…" that was what he said. Could they even be the same friends who betrayed him so grievously?

"Dammit, Plasmius." He mumbled, as the child got back up and transformed back into his ghost form. "Why couldn't you just tell me? I'd obviously find out on my own…" But then, if he was going to keep information from him, then the boy was really free game…

Maybe I can't catch Plasmius for my collection… but this child is not him. This halfa is a newbie…

His decision made, he grinned and jumped from the roof and shot at the ghost child, who turned around at the look on the Box Ghost's face. With a yelp he jumped out of the way with a rolling dodge through the air. The net hit the garbage containers harmlessly.

"Blasted." Good instincts. Perhaps this won't be as quick as I thought.

"Hey! What's your problem?!" The child yelled indignantly.

Skulker smirked. "My problem, whelp, is that I lack a pelt for my fireplace. I intend to remedy this." He shot yet another net at his adversary, who hurriedly jumped higher into the air.

"Pelt? Wait… you mean you're going to skin me?" The boy cried, eyes round with shock.

Ah, at least he's not completely idiotic. The sweeter the chase. "Indeed."

The boy sputtered, "B-wha-why w-would you do that?!"

"You are part of a rare species, Ghost Child." He shot a couple of normal, ectoplasmic shots at him half-heartedly. "And as the greatest hunter in all of the Ghost Zone, I will add you to my collection."

"What, are you serious? What have I done to you?" the child was almost shivering with fear now. Good, he should take the greatest ghostly hunter lightly.

"It's not about what you've done, whelp. It's what you are." Deciding that he'd properly explained his intentions to his future fireplace-rug he turned on his suit's aiming system and prepared to finish the fight.

Before he could do anything, the child's eyes narrowed dangerously and he flew at him with a sudden determination and swung his fist at him. The punch connected with his head and he was sent sailing backwards as stars appeared on his vision. He forced his flight to stop and shook his head before bringing his attention back to the child.

He not weak – I suppose halfas are naturally powerful – but he's only using physical attacks… Perhaps he is that ghost the Lunchlady obsessed about yesterday? I thought she was hallucinating. … again. Guess I'll have to get my head into the game.

Skulker smirked at the kid, "Good to know you're not a complete waste of my time, Whelp. But I don't feel up to discovering the limits to your abilities, so I think I'll just end this right here." He pressed a button on his wrist and a small gun popped out. He grabbed it and pointed it at the nervous half-human hovering a couple of feet below him. "Say goodbye, Ghost Child."

The weapon started humming and the kid was apparently frozen in fear, ruining whatever chance he may have had of avoiding the attack. But just as Skulker was about to take the shot, a gloved hand suddenly yanked the weapon out of his hands.

He blinked at his empty mechanical hands, several thoughts running through his head, the main one being; who is stupid enough to steal from me?

He turned his head slowly to see the Box Ghost floating beside him with a blank expression and a gun that did not belong to him clutched to his chest. He seemed as lost to what happened as the hunter did.

Skulker's eyes narrowed as he glared at the blue ghost in the ridiculous, purple overalls. Had the pathetic excuse for a ghost finally lost his mind? Why would he suddenly grab something that obviously wasn't box-shaped in any way?

This is no time for questions. The child may break out of his stupor at any moment, and I have no desire to see how hard he can hit if he actually figures out how to use his ghostly energy. He bared his teeth. "Give that back now."

The ghost looked panicked for a second, but then the usual unreasonably cocky smile spread across his face and he floated back a few meters saying, "No, I will NOT give it back! For I have found a NEW obsession; from now on, I am the MINIATURE HANDGUN GHOST!" With an awkwardly evil cackle, he turned and flew away, still holding the gun in a fashion that showed he had no idea how to use it.

Something snapped in Skulker's mind and he shot after the pest without a second thought to the prey he was leaving behind. "Come back here, you waste of ectoplasm!"

Danny stared at the rapidly disappearing pair as they raced away from the school.

What just happened? He thought incredulously, I already know ghosts are crazy, but what?

He phased through the wall of the school, leaving behind the mess of boxes and spilled garbage and transformed into Danny Fenton in a janitor's closet. As he went out into the hallway, the speakers rang out to recess and the doors to the classrooms slammed open all the way down the corridor. Remembering his promise to come back before class ended, Danny ducked his head as he slowly made his way towards English to pick up his books.

Did the Box Ghost really just try to help me? Against that predator ghost? But they're ghosts! They're not supposed to help humans…

But the Lunchlady seemed a little worried about me when I got hurt yesterday, too. Maybe they're not so bad? …Or maybe it's because they think I'm a ghost. I guess it makes sense they they're nice to other ghosts. … But Plasmius said they'd rather attack other ghosts, didn't he? And that guy with the flaming hair said I was a rare species… oh, right, they both saw me change into a human. He cringed at the memory and rubbed the back of his head, even though it didn't hurt anymore. So the Box Ghost helped me, even though he knew I was a human? Why would he do that? But both Plasmius and my parents seem to think that ghosts would never help a human…

His thoughts continued circling, leaving him so confused, that he actually felt a little relieved when Sam and Tucker popped up in front of him, all but demanding that he explained why he'd never returned to class. But only almost. He was still a terrible liar.

Vlad glared at the ghost in front of him. Of all the pig-headed, stubborn ghosts he knew and employed, he'd expected Skulker, out of all of them,to act with a little more tact.

"When I asked you to observe the target, this wasn't quite what I had in mind." He stated with as much calm as he could.

They were in his office, with Vlad sitting by his desk with a dark look in his icy blue eyes. The hunter seemed to shrink in on himself opposite him, glancing everywhere but at the man in front of him.

"Uh, I don't know what you're talking about, Plasmius. What are you so upset about?"

Vlad felt the frown on his face but could do anything to rein it in, so he followed it up with a silent snarl. The ghost kept completely still, too used to his moods to panic. But he didn't seem too comfortable with the situation, either.

Vlad opened the top drawer and pulled out a newspaper. Resisting the urge to throw it at his employee, he placed it carefully on the surface between them, the front cover facing Skulker. The ghost peered at the article and his flaming hair dimmed for a heartbeat.

Ghostly teenager and Overalls-ghost fight Mechanical ghost at Casper High, said the title, followed by a short reference to how Daniel had fought with the other ghost at the school yesterday and 'injured' Daniel Fenton, son of the renowned –and only – ghost hunters in Amity Park. Vlad was seething.

"Care to explain this, Skulker?" he said coolly, his voice betraying none of the fury coursing through him at that moment.

The ghost swallowed "Well, see, I thought he could use the practise?" he tried forming a winning smile, that came out looking more nervous than anything.

Vlad bared his teeth. He may not be in his ghost form with all of its fanged glory, but he knew he could still be a menacing sight. "I thought I made it explicitly clear that you were to observe the boy, not try and skin him!" The thought made him more furious than he would have imagined. It was one thing for Daniel to fall in a battle, or die in an accident… but being caught and used as a freak show, his skin used as a rug… it was almost enough to send shivers down his spine.

But Vlad Masters didn't do shivering. He did revenge.

"You're fortunate nothing unspeakable happened, Skulker. Otherwise I might have been forced to… consider an alternative to our partnership." He saw the ghost stiffen and smothered a smirk. There would be time for that at another time, after he'd ensured that Skulker would not attack his Daniel again.

Well. Not without his permission, at least.

Skulker winced, but kept himself fairly still at the very unsubtle threat. "Understood. I will… hold back on hunting the whelp."

Vlad raised an eyebrow at his words. He means he hasn't given up on catching him completely. He rolled his eyes. Well, at least he knows I wouldn't let him get away with it. That should keep him from harming Daniel. …Then again, he should have known better before he attacked the boy. Darn these ghosts and their obsessions!

"Hm, I guess that will do. For now." He added, when the ghost seemed to be a tad too relieved. " But from now on you'll have to keep your distance, so he doesn't recognize you. I don't want you to have an excuse to get into a fight with a teenager." He looked pointedly at the hunter, whose cheeks were tinged green.

"He may be young, Plasmius, but he's not weak!" he objected.

"Perhaps. But I still do not see how defeating a newly formed ghost with no experience in battle – from neither his ghost nor his human existence – could possibly be worthy of 'the Ghost Zone's greatest hunter'" The ghost had been about to say something, but clammed up at the look on Vlad's face.

Noting Skulker's sheepish expression, Vlad decided he'd learned his lesson. Or was at least cowed enough not to attempt something that ridiculous again. He was about to dismiss him when his phone rang. He glanced at the number, having no intention of answering, but froze when he recognized it.

Signaling for Skulker to be quiet, he picked up the handset and said, in as welcoming a voice as he could manage, "Vlad Masters speaking."

It sounded only a little bit smug.

"Hi, Vlad." said the beautiful voice on the other end. A smile spread on his face and he vaguely noticed Skulker gawking at him. He did not worry about the ghost, however. Not when Maddie was talking to him in such a tone.

"Maddie my dear! How absolutely wonderful to hear from you. How are you, hmm? Any new inventions?"

He could hear her chuckle on the other end. "Oh, I'm fine Vlad, and so is Jack, thank you for asking!" He grimaced. I did not ask about Jack… "And speaking of inventions! I know Jack told you we had to opt out of the reunion to fix our Ghost Portal, but it's working now! Granted, we're no entirely sure how – Jack seems to have inconveniently lost his memory again – but we'll figure it out."

Vlad could feel his heart pounding in chest. "Does this mean you will be coming to the reunion, my dear? Oh, that is good to hear! I was worried we wouldn't be seeing each other, it has been far too long!" not that I wouldn't have found some other way to visit…

"Yes, it has been a long time, hasn't it? Twenty years! Jack and I will really be looking forward to meeting you…"

"You and Jack? Will you not be bringing your children?" Vlad asked casually.

"The kids? I'm sure they would love to come, but are you sure you want them to come?"

"Of course! The more the merrier! I can't wait to meet your children, Maddie!" or meet them officially, at least.

"Well, I guess we'll all be seeing each other soon!" There was a faint explosion from her end, "Oh no. I have to go, Jack blew up Danny's bed again. Bye, Vlad!"

"Maddie-" he began, but she was already gone. For a moment he stood there, listening to the beeping, before he placed the phone back down on the desk with a sigh. He rubbed the bridge of his nose before looking back up at the nervous ghost with a crooked smile.

Despite a few mishaps, everything was going according to plan.

This will be a reunion they will never forget.

Ah, Vlad, you haven't appeared near enough in this chapter. I hope to make remedy that.

Why did this take so long? Well, after spending a couple of weeks on exams, I had a 3-weeks course (we have those after exams at my university; not sure if this is common in other countries) which is usually a nice change, since we get to focus on one subject – which would have meant I'd have an easier time concentrating on my fanfiction.

Unfortunately, it was very demanding AND I was grouped with people who … had a few problems. Ended up mostly doing the reports myself *sigh* in other words, the usual.

After that, I guess I was just a bit out of practice :P

SO! What do you think of this chapter? I'm personally not satisfied with it at all, but what can ya' do?

I actually wanted to have a short chapter focusing on Danny's ghostly development before the reunion, but with the speed I seem to write at, that would be unnecessarily cruel ;)