Thank you to all my returning reviewers (I would list all of you, but there are PAGES (this makes me very excited) to the reviews list now, and it's hard to keep track).

I'm gonna stop babbling and let you read what you came here to read…

Sam, Tucker and I were walking in front of the rest of the class, with Valerie sandwiched between the two groups.

"Are you taking us to Plasmius' secret evil lair?"

While Valerie's suggestion was tempting, I didn't want to risk him 'teaching' them anything else.

"No," I said to the ghost hunter behind us.

"She's a ghost hunter, and you brought a ghost to class," Sam whispered. "I'd say her suspicions are pretty valid."

"Then why didn't she shoot at him?"

Tucker answered my question. "Maybe because you were standing right next to him?"

"Which means she still doesn't know your secret," added Sam.

"What are you guys whispering about?"

"Nothing," Sam and I spat back at Valerie. This time, the whole class was listening in on our conversation, including Mr. Lancer, who was keeping watch from a distance, taking notes.

I let out a sigh. "We're here."

We stopped in front of the two-story brick apartment that proudly wore a slapdash sign for a tie and a UFO for a hat. Fenton Works.

I hope nobody's home.

Right as I was walking up the three steps to the door, my face was greeted with the force of a thousand ecto-blasts.

"Danny-o! You're home – Danny?" My dad stood where I was half a second ago. Glaring down into the hoard of 17 to 18-year-olds staring back up at him, he acknowledged Sam and Tucker, and eyed Dash snickering in the back with Kwan and Starr.

"Baxter. What have you done with my boy?"

"I'm right here," I said back to him from my position lying on the ground, rivers of blood streaming down from my nose to my chin.

Why is it that Dad's the only life-threatening part of this job?

"We're only here because we were hoping they could get some combat training in the Fenton Dojo," explained Tucker, who didn't sound like a donkey when talking from plugging up his nose.

Dad eyed Dash again. "Can I play?"

Dash gave his best attempt at an innocent smile, which only made Dad angrier.

This time, Sam tried talking to my dad. "Sorry, Mr. Fenton. As much as we'd love for you to show your stuff, we can't risk any serious injuries."

"Ah, fine." Dad was genuinely disappointed.

I let the class into the Dojo behind the building, and further to the changing rooms so they all could get into their jumpsuits: orange for the guys, and blue for the girls.

The dojo was much less a dojo than it was an open field with booby-traps build into the ground.

I broke off back into the house and into the bathroom, closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and let the nostalgia take over. Two blue-white rings that were all too familiar to me formed around my waist and traveled in opposite directions, bread-crumbing a black jumpsuit and a stylized "D" on my chest.

I went back outside after dying my hair black and put in the blue contacts Dani had given me for me last Christmas. She'd given them to me just in case I was put in the recurring situation where I couldn't change from ghost to human.

"Hah! And you call me a phanatic," Dash teased to Kwan.

Ordinarily, a comment like that would be followed through with me being embarrassed to no end, but I just let out a smirk, then looked on to Dash in pity.

My confidence that my secret wasn't at stake was saddening.

My dad bribed me asking to make sure Dash leaves with a little more than a scrape on the knee. I was happy to oblige.

Dash and Kwan were having fun with the equipment playing tag, or something. When no one was looking at me, I poked a right finger out from around my back and shot Dash's gun out of his hands, leaving him wide open for Kwan to blast him into the ground.

The animosity Dash showed Kwan would've scared Skulker out of his ecto-suit.

That earned a smile from Tucker and Sam. Looking over to Valerie, she followed suit, but luckily only because Sam and Tucker gave it away that I'd done it, and not because she'd seen me.

"Dash and Kwan seem to be ahead of the curve," I shouted to the rest of the class. "Go and have fun!"

"Well, Mr. Fenton. It looks like you're finally getting a hang of this 'whole teaching your peers' thing," said Mr. Lancer, who'd sat down next to me.

"Yeah. That doesn't mean I like it."

"You think any of us adult teachers enjoy putting up with you guys? Life requires sacrifices."

Off in the distance, Valerie was dominating the field. She looked back at me and smiled, almost like she was trying to reel me in.

I smiled back and got up to join everyone. "Yeah, but that doesn't mean life's no fun."

Feedback much appreciated.

If you'd like to make your own 'war stories' about what could happen in this class, feel free to expand on this, but please give credit where it's due. And let me know so I can read them :P

Thanks!