And now, we meet our heroes again!
Review replies;
Autobot-Outcast: No love for Bailey? =P Indeed, where else would they go? Thanks for reading!
TweenisodeOrange: And also some of the not-fun characters! :D Thanks for reviewing!
SOLmaster: Well, I'll say this - he's gonna have a pretty trying day. :) Thanks for the review.
LightandDarkness Warrior: Yyyep, just a bit. ;) Thanks very much!
Zim'sMostLoyalServant: Well, if you have continuity, why not use it? :) Thanks!
Chapter One: The Calm
Sixty-Nine Years Later...
"...good morning Amity, it is now half past eight on what's turning out to be a beautiful Saturday morning in our fair city, and that means it's time to go over the headlines..."
Danny Fenton rolled out of bed, sleepily crawling over to his drawers.
"Uuuggh..." he muttered.
He opened the top drawer, revealing rows and rows of identical shirts.
"...I really gotta get different shirts," he muttered to himself.
He began to get changed, groggily half-listening to the radio.
"...electrical energy over New York believed to be normal. Now over to Lance Thunder with the weather, what're we looking at, Lance?"
"We're looking at sunny skies all day, with possible showers after dark. Apart from that, it's another warm sunshiny day in Amity Park..."
Danny, having finished getting dressed, pulled open his blinds, allowing the sunlight to pour into his room. He closed his eyes and smiled.
"Just another perfect day in Amity," he sighed.
He whistled to himself as he headed out the door, heading to the stairs.
He was halfway down the stairs when he was nearly knocked over by a younger girl sliding down the handrail, jumping off at the bottom of the stairs. Catching himself, Danny rolled his eyes.
"Dani," he grunted.
"Waffle morning!" exclaimed Dani, running into the kitchen.
Danny shook his head.
"She really needs to stop hanging out with Timmy," he muttered.
He shrugged and strode into the kitchen.
The kitchen was already the scene of an average Fenton family breakfast – Jack and Maddie were tinkering with a very large and quite threatening ecto-bazooka weapon, while Jazz was reading through a psychology textbook and pretending not to notice them. Danny sat down, grabbed a couple of waffles and looked over to his parents.
"So...err...what's that one?" he asked.
"This," boomed Jack, "Is the Fenton Ghost Superblaster! It fires a guided rocket capable of taking down a fully-powered ghost from three blocks away..."
"...just as soon as we get it working," finished Maddie, "Jack, you filled the intake with too much ectoranium."
Jack pulled a sheet of paper from his jumpsuit.
"...darn it, forgot to carry the one," he muttered.
"We'll fix it, sweetie," chuckled Maddie.
There was a sudden beeping, and Maddie glanced at her watch.
"Well, time for our morning ghost patrol!" she said, climbing to her feet, "You ready, Jack?"
Jack leapt to his feet and pointed at the door.
"To the Ghost Assault Vehicle!" he thundered, running to the garage with Maddie close behind.
Danny glanced at Jazz.
"Nothing?" he asked, smirking.
"After seventeen years, you stop feeling embarrassed," replied Jazz.
"True," nodded Danny.
Quite literally a world away, Timmy Turner was sitting at his own breakfast table, listening to his parents talk about their plans for the day. It was the same as every Saturday – they would go out and do things that made them feel young, and he'd be dumped with Vicky.
"Just another Saturday morning," he whispered.
The Turners got up from the table, both grinning.
"Well!" exclaimed Mr. Turner, "We're off to the ice-skating rink!"
"Didn't you do that last week?" asked Timmy.
"Yes," nodded Mrs. Turner, "And your father broke every bone in his left arm."
"Today I'm gonna break that record!" said Mr. Turner.
"...dad, that's not the point of ice-skating," Timmy reminded.
"It is when you go extreme ice-skating!" replied Mr. Turner.
He and his wife immediately put on football helmets.
"Have fun with Vicky!" exclaimed Mrs. Turner as they ran out the door.
Not two seconds later, Vicky strode in, slamming the door behind her.
"Alright, twerp," she snapped, "Your parents want me to do the gardening, which means I want you to..."
"...I wish you were somewhere else!" blurted Timmy.
There was a poof of smoke and Vicky was gone.
Timmy grinned as green-and-pink salt and pepper shakers and a purple fork appeared on the table.
"So, where'd you send her?" asked Timmy.
"Ah, you know..." replied Wanda, hesitantly.
"...nowhere important," shrugged Cosmo.
"Well, would you look at that, somebody's having a psychotic episode," said Hugh.
Jimmy Neutron and his father were looking out the window of the kitchen as a familiar looking teenage girl (was that Vicky?) ran around in the street in panic, screaming something about 'bulginess'.
"Well, I guess that means Turner's awake," shrugged Jimmy.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his recaller.
"Jimmy," said Judy, sitting down across from him, "What did I tell you about inventions at the breakfast table?"
"But mom," complained Jimmy, "It's not an invention, it's a highly-sophisticated multi-universal communication device!"
He looked down at the table.
"...and I also finished five minutes ago," he added.
Judy crossed her arms.
"Alright, but take it somewhere else," she said, "Your father's still finishing his toast."
They glanced over to Hugh, who appeared to be serenading his toast.
"...and if he keeps singing to it, he'll be there a long time," said Judy, dryly.
Far away and under the sea, Spongebob Squarepants had just finished breakfast and was just feeding Gary when his recaller beeped.
"Ooh, I wonder who that is?" he asked out loud.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his recaller. A message was displayed on the screen.
Anyone up for training? –JN.
He was about to reply when another few messages came through.
do we haf to? – timmy
Im doing sum flite training rite now – meet up? – Fenton
Spongebob grinned.
"Well, Gary, looks like I know what I'm doing today!" he exclaimed.
"Meow?"
"Yep! See you later!" farewelled Spongebob.
He pressed a button on the recaller and opened a portal.
"Alright, we're all set," said Tucker, pressing a button on his PDA, "Tracking your speed now. Good luck, dude."
Danny was standing on the front steps of Fenton Works, carrying a strange metallic backpack. The Nicktoons, his friends, Jazz and Dani were standing around him, waiting for him to go.
"Okay, go over this again?" asked Danny.
"You run across the road into the alleyway," explained Sam, pointing to the alley, "Jump onto that dumpster, transform and cross the city as fast as you can. Once you're there, stop; catch your breath, then we go for the height test."
"Got it," nodded Danny, "Wish me luck!"
"On three," said Jimmy, "One...two...three!"
Danny was off.
He covered the distance between the house and the dumpster pretty quickly, and leapt onto the dumpster in a single bound. Jumping again, he transformed mid-leap and began to fly.
Few feelings on Earth were quite comparable to flight – to the feeling of the wind in your face and the rush in your ears. It was an exhilarating and yet relaxing feeling, and was probably Danny's favourite perk of being half-ghost.
All too soon, however, he was forced to come to a stop as he reached the city limits. Landing next to a tree, he put a finger over his ear and spoke into his Fenton Phones.
"How'd I do?" he asked.
"You got an average speed of 600mph, peaked at 655," replied Jimmy, "Not bad."
"Not bad?" scoffed Danny, "What, you think you could fly faster?"
"With the right modifications to my jetpack, yeah."
"Save it for later, guys," interrupted Dani, "It's height time."
"What's my record?" asked Danny.
"Last time we made 20,000 feet," replied Jazz.
"I can beat that," said Danny, cockily.
"You had a jet that time," reminded Spongebob.
"I've been practising," shrugged Danny.
"Well, I guess we'll find out," said Timmy, "Liftoff in five...four...three...one!"
Danny rolled his eyes and thundered into the air.
Below him, the city of Amity Park shrank into the distance and he roared through the clouds, eyes closed and grinning wildly. He could just barely hear Tucker counting up his height in his ear, focusing hard on getting as high as he could.
Higher and higher he flew – five thousand feet, ten thousand feet, fifteen thousand feet – until eventually he'd passed his record. He was still showing no sign of stopping.
"Impossible!" he heard Jimmy exclaimed, "He can't have improved that much since..."
"Hey, Neutron," Timmy chuckled, "Just let him do his thing, alright?"
Danny smirked and opened his eyes.
It was at that point he saw the fighter jet coming straight at him.
"Gaaah!" he exclaimed, dodging out of the way as the jet thundered past.
"Danny? Danny, you okay?" exclaimed Sam.
"I'm fine," replied Danny, watching the jet vanish into the distance, "Some people just...don't look where they're flying, I guess."
He rubbed the back of his head, blushing a little.
"Well, there goes all my momentum," he grumbled, "How'd I do?"
"28,000ft, dude," congratulated Tucker, "New personal best!"
"That'll do for today," nodded Jimmy, "Come on, we've got...hold on..."
Danny waited impatiently for Jimmy to come back on.
"We got a problem," said Jimmy, "City museum, it looks like Zwarte Pete escaped from the Observants...again. We'll meet you there."
Danny nodded and looked down towards the museum.
"Just another day in Amity Park," he shrugged, diving back down towards his city.
Deep in the Ghost Zone, Walker was striding through his prison, Bullet by his side.
The prison was in chaos. The guards were packing everything up, and their prisoners were clutching at the bars, trying fruitlessly to escape. It was no less chaotic outside, of course, and not just in the usual Ghost Zone sense of the word.
The Warlord was coming, and nobody wanted to be here when he arrived.
"Warden!" someone called, "A word, perhaps?"
Walker stopped and turned to one of the cells.
Professor Calamitous, Crocker and Plankton were huddled in a cell, looking expectantly at him.
"This, um, Warlord fellow," gulped Calamitous, "He's a bit of a...err...problem, isn't he? Would you care to...um...um..."
"Let you out?"
Walker chuckled darkly.
"You wanted to break out my prisoners, boys?" he snarled, "Well, by all means – break yourselves out."
He grinned nastily and walked away.
"Well," shrugged Plankton, "We're in trouble..."
AN: Yaaaay! They're doomed!