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A/N: Thank you so very much for your kind review kat, for a while there I thought chapter seven scared off most of my readers…it didn't did it? I mean, if something's wrong, feel free to flame all you like. I'd prefer that over the silence, it scares me—just be careful, otherwise you might accidentally kill Jack. Anyway, thank you as well my newly added followers! I know it's rather demanding, but I've always refrained from typing up new chapters until I got at least one review, but you followers certainly help.
Chapter eight: Now isn't the time to sleep!
Danny, although smart, skilled, powerful, and, undoubtedly (oh how he loved to brag about it) handsome, was also clueless, and, sadly, rather forgetful. Take right now for instance. Barely awake on his bed, unable to remember how or why it was he passed out. Let alone whose voices where penetrating his skull and causing him to dig his face further in to his feather soft and oh so cold pillows…wait…cold? Hadn't Tuck installed a heater into his bed? (Yeah, the ambassador of the Ghost/Human alliance was rather spoiled.)
"He has to be awake by now." Growled out a rather feminine voice, although, for reasons that Danny's groggy mind could not recall, he felt a sliver of fear; Paulina—his finally remembered—was even worse than the Ghost King when she got mad, however, beyond the slight dancing of pillow case ghosts and scissors (ghost proof), along with barbed wire (also ghost proof), and a really, really big fire, he couldn't understand why.
"…what I want to know is why he passed out in the first place, kissing me can't be that bad."
Ah, and there was another voice he remembered but couldn't quite place, snowball? Weird ice-cold-wind creature? Boy?...Jack? Ah, that's right, the snowballs name was Jack…but the snowball wasn't really a snowball, but a beautiful frail looking boy—who happened to look allot like his ghost half…only carrying a staff that looked like it belonged to a shepherd….seriously, why did he have that? And why was he barefoot? And how did he get such cool designs of his clothes? Could he do the same for Danny's clothes, pretty, pretty please?
But the kissing part…that, that Danny couldn't recall…or maybe he didn't want too…
"He better wake up sometime soon or else I'm dragging him to the counsel."
He seriously wouldn't put it past her…Paulina has done far worse in the past…was she really his biggest fan?
A sigh escaped pale lips that tasted like…alright, stop thinking! Stop thinking!
"Why does he need to go to this counsel anyway? What's this trouble you've been talking about?" Not that it really mattered, the only one who could hear Jack—let alone see him—was the oblivious one trying (and failing, if the mysterious frost bunny that appeared before his eyes was any indication) to appear asleep.
Anyway, what was the bunny doing? It looked evil—like it was about to poke his eyes out—see-through blue eyes of crystalline ice staring deep into his soul, ears drawn back, whiskers (how on earth could they be so thin yet so solid?) twitching. Damn it! The thing read his mind!
"Ack!" Danny cried, covering his wounded eyes as he rolled around, the bunny disappearing from sight just a second before Paulina turned and yelled, "Strange ghosts are attacking Amity Park!"
A second later Danny had captured both Jack and Paulina (who raised an elegant eyebrow at what appeared to be empty space) and sent them flying through his window (quickly defrosted by the stunned spirit), into the darkening sky above.
"Where, why, how many?"
Only Jack could get away with laughing in the presence of such a tense atmosphere.
And, really, who could blame him? Danny's ghost half was still in spider-man pajamas.