[ Author's Note: ] My school is goals. The teachers did a Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs play
and my awesome P.E teacher was a 'cool' Prince Charming with a unicorn (hobbi horse) named Trigger:

"My name is Prince Oh-So-Gorgeous Charming!"
*snort chuckle*

"Look what we have here. She's a TOTES BAE!"
*everyone laughing*

Disclaimerrrr: I don't own any of these shows, gosh dangit. :P

NOTICES (please read):

1) I might start a collection of one-shots based on Randy and Danny. Please leave ideas for each one-shot in the review section!
(warning - I will not take smuts, and will only take some slash)

2) I am making Danny know ghost-speak fluently. Ghost-speak will be German, since I know that too. I will only
put translations when I think it is needed! Also, the translations are only when it is Sam, Danny or a ghost's POV.
(Translations are like ("this"))

3) From 19th December, updates will be faster! CHRISTMAS HOLIDAYYYYYYS.

ONWARDS WITH LE SHOW! *cue Prince Oh-So-Gorgeous Charming flying across the screen*

Chapter Six ~ Ghost Speak

oOo

"Viceroy," McFist's tone was rather too nonchalant for the lab assistant's liking, him being used to having his supposedly genius plans stolen and being shouted at for no reason apparant to him, "I'd like you to get the Sorceror on the line. I think I have an ingenious plan that might just work in destroying the ninja." Holding a hand to his forehead, Viceroy tore his incurious black orbs away from his computer screen and focused them onto his solidly-built boss. It was shocking to know that Hannibal McFist, a man well known for his wealth and certainly not for his nonexistent brains, actually conjured a plan up himself that he is confident will work in their ultimate life-time goal; destroying the ninja for good. Why McFist wanted to kill off the seemingly innocent hero of Norrisville was anyone's guess. Even Viceroy didn't know why - the only thing he knew was that a hefty paycheck would come from helping his unfriendly boss in succeeding to get rid of the ninja. With a long sigh, the tall African-American swung around on his swirly office chair and rolled across the large room towards another desk, this one not only being the (most likely final) resting place of a half-broken computer but also the control panel of the huge green tube just over to the left of it. He said nothing; there was no need too. Silently, Viceroy was laughing. Laughing at how his boss thought he had a plan that 'might just work in destroying the ninja' to put it in his own words. The ninja was slippery as a fish and clever as ... something that's clever. He was incredibly hard to catch on a good day - it didn't help that he far too many weird weapons in his suit. The only way they had a chance to get the ninja down was when he wasn't near his mask, or if they knew his secret identity. That was proving difficult to find as well as his identity.

"Sir, are you sure that your supposed ingenious plan will work?" Viceroy asked, one eyebrow quirked and two coal-black eyes studying his boss's grouchy expression carefully. It was sometimes difficult to read that man's emotions easily. Usually, it was a strange mixture of anger, frustration and something that resembled 'I-will-shout-into-your-face-if-you-don't-shut-up' - again, difficult to read. A short snort reverberated through the room; McFist was close to falling off his poor office chair, which was squeaking and creaking desperately for Viceroy's help. Frowning, Viceroy could feel laughter bubbling up his throat, only to get forced back with a painful swallow. He willed himself to keep a straight face - he genuienly thought that McFist was incapable of thinking up his own scheme, and if it happened to be successful then it would most likely kill more people then the ninja himself. Composing himself, the square-shaped billionaire stood up and rolled his broad shoulders backwards.

"You'll see, when you ACTUALLY GET THE SORCEROR ON THE LINE!" McFist suddenly raised his voice above what Viceroy had long ago predicted natural, startling the lanky lab assistent so much that he nearly dragged the half-broken computer off the clutzy desktop. His hand slapped across the disorderly surface, and he felt the tips of his fingers brush lightly against a familiar button. Raising his fist, he slammed onto the button and said the words "call the Sorceror" into a random microphone that whirred to life off the side of the desk. Promptly, a face appeared in the central green tube, surronded by a veil of sickly stank gas. The Sorceror's face was greyer and more wrinkled then it usually was, with his emerald eyes glowing a menacing green and an unlawfully wide smirk playing with his thin lips. It was certainly a sight to cower away from, if both evil genius' (namely Viceroy) weren't to used to seeing it in the large plastic pipe. They had yet to see his entire body - he had been trapped in a tomb underneath the school for over 800 years now, resorting to stanking students who are victims to any negative emotions such as sadness, anger and frustration.

"What do you want, you unimportant mortal beings?" the Sorceror hissed darkly, his unpretty face pulling closer to the pair. Mentally wincing, Viceroy nonchalantly flopped into his most comfortable office chair, which was still discarded in a random direction after rolling around the room on it earlier on in the day. He had no interest whatsoever in that conversation was going on between the Sorceror and McFist, or standing up throughout it rather. Though, his laziness in no way stopped him from eavesdropping - something he did far too often in these kind of situations.

"Sorceror, I have an unbeatable plan to finally destroy the ninja!" McFist was stating rather excitedly, his black eyes lighting up and light blonde beard shaking as he did.

"Keep talking, McFist... I'm interested," purred the Sorceror in response, a long bony finger rested beside his eyes, which were narrowed into cunning green slits.

"Well," Hannibal cracked his knuckles and smiled evilly at the unpleasant face in the tube, "firstly, we'll use my Spy Fly to find out the ninja's identity. Next, we'll take a hostage that he is very good friends with and hold him here until the ninja comes to free him. Then we'll trap him and DESTROY HIM!" Viceroy's mind ticked like a timebomb, then a proud smirk stretched his lips. Judging by the Sorceror's chuckle that followed the supposedly perfect scheme idea, the ancient being approved of it as well as the lab assistent did. He rolled across the floor, and stopped the office chair neatly beside McFist. The Sorceror diverted his impressively grouchy glare onto him, and cracked another evil chuckle.

"This is just perfect for my schedule right now," Viceroy commented, his smirk only widening as he swiftly rolled back across the floor and towards the opening lift door.

"This is just perfect for my schedule right now," Randy remarked grumpily, the waterfalls of sarcasm practically dripping off of his words. There was a slight pause, before the unsheathing of his trustworthy katana sliced into his aching brain. From in front of him, the difficult robo-scorpian let out a shriek of pure fury and dived towards the ninja's slender figure, its pointed tail swaying behind it's bulky mass of steel. There was a slight pause from the hero of Norrisville High, who had a mental brainfart for a few mere moments, before he too launched himself at the creature. It sure wasn't pretty; a clumpy body, a gaping mouth lined with sets of venomously pointed teeth, a long, threatening tail streaming after it... ugh, it made Randy gag. The air cold underneath his toes, the ninja nosedived towards the head of the robo-scorpian, sharpened katana raised above his own head and fingers drumming expertly along its comfortably padded handle. The sound it made as the blade sliced into the metal muzzle was defeaning, though Randy pushed it out. He stared in shock, barely noticing his graceful decent back to the damp emerald grass of the school's vast football pitch. His sword had literally embedded itself into the nose of the creature, and instead of falling out with him it stayed upright in the metal.

"Fantastic," he hissed under his breath, pulling out a pair of familiar cerise balls (innuendo much ;D). "NINJA BOOM BOOM BALLS!" he announced, tossing them at the robo-scorpian with the perfect aim of an Olympic hammer thrower. They exploded upon contact with the steel, the dark clump of smoke temporarily disorientating Viceroy's invention. Randy took the moment of its weakness to snake towards the creature, craftily scaling up it's hindquaters on silently agile feet. The smoke had yet to dissipate aroind its line of vision, and Randy found himself skidding up the lump that he considered its head and unhinging his katana from the muzzle with almost too much ease. Once it had regained its tall posture and could actually see, it was already laying in neat slices along the football pitch. That was almost too easy, he thought suspisciously, studying the mess before him. His finger tips were lit up with orangey-yellow Tengu flames, and Randy quickly clenched his fists to smut them out.

"Ninja!" a voice hollered sharply, and Randy looked up with narrow cobalt orbs. Two figures were approaching him at a rapid pace; one scrawny yet muscled, the other round as a honkin' circle. The only conclusion the exhausted ninja could muster was that it had to be Danny and Howard. As they drew closer, he wasn't surprised to realise that he was correct. Danny was staring, his icy blue orbs alight with wonder, while Howard was nonchalantly studying the mess that Randy had left after his battle. "Ninja, did you know that Danny can speak a language no one knows about?"

Instantly, Danny's face went bright red. "Hey," he growled playfully, "I don't mean to do it! It just kinda comes out sometimes." The ninja laughed, looking at Danny with uncertain eyes.

"Show me," he purred in a friendly manner. He didn't see why he couldn't he nice to him; after all, only a few days ago they were all playing Grave Puncher II together.

"Fine," Danny cracked his knuckles and smiled. "Das ist mir in einer anderen Spranche zu sprechen," he said. Both Randy and Howard gawked.

"That's so bruce!" Howard squealed, his voice somewhat resembling a very terrified piglet, "that does it mean?! What did you say?"

"I said... 'this is me speaking a different language'," Danny informed them gently, his smile only widening.

There was the deafening sound of a door slamming from behind Howard, and the trio's heads shot towards the noise. A voice, sounding rather angry, was shouting at something. "OH MY CLOCKWORK, WILL YOU GO AWAY STEVENS!" it screamed, and the owner of the voice stepped out from a pooled shadow. It unsurprisingly belonged to the one and only Samantha Manson, who had a seethingly angry expression slapped across her features. The fury only seemed to deepen when she looked up and saw Danny and Howard conversating with the ninja.

"Hi Sam," Danny awkwardly greeted as she approached with heavy footsteps, "haben Sie irgendwelche Geister in der Umgebung gesehem?" Randy cocked an eyebrow, his eyes searching Sam for any sign of confusion. She only sighed and responded with an annoyed voice. Can she understand him?!

"No," she said simply, before pulling out some sort of device from her bag. "The only one this thing is telling me about so far is y- uhm.. I mean, der einzige, diseses Ding zu mir zu sagen, ist, dass Sie, Danny." Both Howard and Randy were gawking. She can speak it as well as Randy?

"OK," Danny responded, "Lassen Sie uns in due Klasse gehen, ogne diese beiden und tatsächlich sprechen...?"

"'kay." Sam smiled, not even looking back at the ninja as she turned away, montioning for Danny to follow.

"Mmkay, guys. I'm gonna go. Bye!" Danny waved goodbye, before trotting off like Sam's most loyal shadow.

"You can unmask now," Howard commented, and Randy pulled the mask off his head. There was a blinding crimson flash, and Randy smiled at the feeling of cold air hitting his hands instead of being concealed from the breeze by the fabric (or feathers) of the ninja suit. The weather was beautiful in Norrisville right now; the sun was bathing the ground in gorgeous golden pools of warm sunrays, with the pacified light breeze sweeping across the ground making it just purely blissful to be outdoors.

"Dude, I swear Danny is the coolest person I know," Randy shoved the ninja mask into his bag, nestling it right behind the Nomicon, which flashed once gratefully at him. "What normal person would know another language so fluently?!"

(A/N: Sorry the ending is so abrupt, but I'm having writers block and have no motivation for the ending of this part... sorry. :])

"Danny, do you know who the ninja is?" Sam's combat boots were heavy against the tiled floor of the corridors, reveberating off the cream walls and shaking locker doors each ponderous step. There was a slight pause, before Danny heard Sam slip automatically into ghost speak, as if he would only understand in that language. "Wissen Sie, wer der Ninja ist?" ("Do you know who the ninja is?") Finally looking up, Danny didn't stop his raven hair from shadowing over his ice-cold blue eyes and he frowned into Sam's own striking violet gaze. Despite her not being ghost, or at least a halfa, she seemed to know ghost-speak as if she were born with the language. Maybe it was because she had been around Danny for so long, she just kind of learnt it from when he spoke it in ghost fights. Danny knew it by heart; it appeared to just sink into his brain when he first became a halfa in the lab accident. Even Tucker didn't know it properly, him only knowing a few words such as 'giest' which meant 'ghost' and 'hilfe' which meant help.

"Nein... aber ich habe meine Theorien," ("No... but I have my theories") Danny responded quietly, just as they finally reached their destination. The English room, soon to be where they would sit for an hour and listen to Mr. Lancer... no... some random teacher that he had forgotten the name of ramble on about semi-colons or something like that. Stifling a dreading sigh, Danny turned back to Sam, who appeared to be completely lost in her own thoughts; she stared at the door just up the corridor, the one they had come into the school from the football pitch. There was a tense atmosphere around them, one that Danny felt far too awkward in. Laughs suddenly filled the corridor, followed by the tapping of footsteps and a shout that resembled 'come back here, Cunningham, you honkin' shoob!' Inwardly chuckling, Danny smiled up at the two figures that suddenly skidded into their line of vision - Randy and Howard. The taller of the two was running down towards them, laughing and skidding slightly across the newly waxed tiles with the remarkable speed and lightning reflexes of a... of a ninja... hmmm...

"Danny!" Howard shrieked, startling the halfa out of his own skin, "catch Randy for me!" Holding out his arms, Danny happily obliged and sprinted towards the lanky teenager, only for his terrible blockade to be literally jumped over. Randy had jumped over him... what in the Clockwork...? "I told you to catch him, not gawk at him!" Howard grumbled, not even bothering to run as he approached Danny. From the other end of the corridor, there was a light chuckle, followed by the sound of footsteps drumming against the floor.

"Hehe, sorry for nearly taking you out with my shoe, Danny," he said sheepishly, beaming him a charming lopsided grin. Danny snorted in amusement as he heard a gasp of awe from beside him, to see Sam slapped a hand over her mouth and widened her intense violet eyes.

"How the hell did you jump over me?!" Danny gawked, leaning slightly on Sam's shoulder - she barely even flinched at the weight.

"Uhm..." Randy seemed unsure, and he visibly hesitated under the pressure of answering the innocent question, "...I guess I just have that athletic ability?"

"Yee, it's only because of all that practise from fighti-"

"HOWARD!" Randy hissed, cutting him right off. "Heheh, don't listen to him... uh..."

Sam raised an eyebrow, leaning on Danny heavily to get him off her shoulder. "Mmkay... well, the bell is about to ring, sooo..."

"Let's go in then." Danny smiled, and opened the door to the English room.

A/N: AHHHH I'M SORRY IT'S SO ABRUPT. THAT PART IS A FILLER. I'M DOING SAM'S THIRD PERSON P.O.V NOW vvv.

How do you feel about RxS? ;]

Sam was mentally slapping herself.

Whenever that absolute scumbucket Randy Cunningham smiled at her, or anyone else for that matter, she could feel her stomach butterflies doing flips in her gut and all of the blood rushing to her cheeks. It was just the way he did everything... even the way he laughed made her chest swell. It was an angelic sound to her; the chuckle was so light but so heartfelt at the same time, it was nearly impossible to not laugh along with him. And when he went into hysterics, the way he would double over and then proceed to tip to the side that made her want to engulf him in a huge hug. Ugh, she completely despised having mixed emotions like this. She hated him for beating her at the DDR in Greg's Gamehole at the same time as she really, really, really liked him. What was she thinking? There was no way in the world that she liked Randy Cunningham, was there? Her mind was spinning, and she was lost in her thoughts as Randy continued to beam his oh-my-Clockwork-so-perfect, lopsided grin at Danny, the sheepishness in his innocent proving incredibly attractive... no... was she getting feelings for a douche like Randy?!

I hate hormones.

A/N: BEFORE YOU KILL ME, THE LAST BIT WAS MEANT TO BE REALLY ABRUPT. IT
WAS SUPPOSED TO BE DRAMATIC. I'M SORRY. I'M SORRY I KNOW YOU HATE ME BUT
I'M TIRED RIGHT NOW. I ASSURE YOU NEXT CHAPTER WILL BE BETTER!

DO YOU GUYS WANT SOME RANDY X SAM?
this chapter was another random filler to introduce ghost speak :]

love ya'll :)

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