A/N: Okay, so I wasn't too happy about the third chapter, but now I hope things will get better. R&R!

Disclaimer: Me no own Casper! Me only fan!

Strangely, no one approached Jane about her seemingly out-of-no-where knowledge of Casper and his last name. Nor did that little fact slip into the hands of his uncles. They kept their word, and did not so much as even try to sneak a peak for two days. And for those two days, Casper worked on easing Jane with his presence. She still seemed tense around him, but relaxed a bit with every bowl of hot soup and cold glass of water brought to her.

She even went so far as to start a conversation, which he enjoyed immensely. Though she hardly said anything, she still kept her manners in check and managed a meek 'thank you' whenever Casper took care of her. So when one day she asked how long he had lived (or haunted really) in Whipstaff, he was slightly taken off guard.

"Well," he started, scratching his overly large head. "I think in a couple months it'll be my 103rd year." Jane looked down, furrowing her brow as if in deep thought. And then, as if she just had a revelation, her face lit up with understanding and nodded her head in agreement to whatever debate had gone on in her mind.

Silence fell upon them again as he waited for her to finish, but it wasn't as uncomfortable as usual, and Casper felt a little bold.

"So…how did you know what my last name was?" he asked, the question having been bugging him ever since. Jane paused, spoon halfway to her mouth as her mossy green eyes flicked to his cerulean ones.

"Connections," she said vaguely, as if trying to avoid the real answer all together. Now Casper was really curious.

"You mean like family?" Maybe that's why she looked so familiar! Just thinking of having another family member was exhilarating, but having a live one? That was almost too much to ask for.

Jane saw his excitement and figured what conclusions he had jumped to. Giving him an apologetic smile, she said, "No, not quite. Maybe not blood related but certainly close enough to be called family." He deflated a little but she couldn't lie to him. He really was a sweet little boy…

"Um," she began, eyes floating back down to her tray. "What exactly is this?" She gestured to a plate of slightly moist pieces of toast, covered in a strange powder that looked like flower. Casper raised an eyebrow.

"French toast?" he asked as a question, wondering how she didn't know what it was. Maybe he'd made it wrong…

"I've never had it," she stated, though there was a slight undertone of wonder and amazement. It was small, but still there, and it made Casper ponder just what kind of life this strange woman had led.

"Not even as a kid?" A shake of her head was all he got until she elaborated.

"I was a very…sheltered child. Sweets weren't really allowed, I normally just had oatmeal for breakfast." Casper positively radiated with curiosity now.

"What about treats? Chocolate? Sodas?" he asked quickly, trying not to give her anytime to even think of refusing to answer. Jane's eyes took on a faraway look as she thought back.

"Well, I was never allowed to have any, but It's not like I've never tried them. It would be kinda weird to have to ask for a different sort of food that looked like chocolate on set…" Jane suddenly snapped her mouth shut, and Casper could nearly physically see her shutting down.

"Set…?" He deliberately left the question open, hoping Jane would give him at least an inkling of what she meant. But to his disappointment, she remained quiet, avoiding eye contact. Sighing, he decided that that would be all he was going to get today, still, it was the most so far, so he couldn't be too discouraged.

"All right, let me take your temperature and I'll take your tray."

Obediently, Jane took up the thermometer from the night stand and stuck it in her mouth while Casper cleared out her half eaten soup bowl and untouched French toast. Right as he got back the device beeped. Taking it from her, he turned it off and returned it to the night stand.

"102.6 degrees. It's dropping but you should still stay in bed. Call me if you need anything."

Throughout the rest of the day, Jane followed orders and only got up for bathroom breaks. Kat and James stopped by a couple times before dinner, but other than that, Jane was utterly alone. And bored.

Smoothing out her night shirt which Casper had been kind enough to bring from her car, Jane stepped out of bed and entered the long dismal hallway just outside her room. Peeking around cautiously, she began to tip toe her way downstairs as quietly as possible. Looking out a window had informed her it was deep into the night, and she really didn't want to wake anyone and see her in this form of dress. She also knew that if she was caught, she would probably get an earful from the ever concerned Casper . But she was so thirsty…One trip to the kitchen couldn't possibly hurt, could it?

XXXXXX

Fatso yawned obnoxiously, but the grumble from his stomach was even more so. Doing his nightly rounds, he floated swiftly down his usual route to the kitchen, almost as if on autopilot.

"Now let's see, left over fried chicken sounds good. Ooo, and a couple of those apple turnovers from last week on the side…" he mumbled to himself as he floated through the doors, but his musings were cut off as he realized he wasn't the only one with the midnight munchies.

The mysterious stranger was there, or "Jane", as the Doc had informed them. She had yet to notice him, but he went invisible just in case.

"Water, water, water…" she chanted under her breath, bending over to retrieve a pitcher from the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. Fatso squashed the urge to wolf whistle as her night shirt slipped up, revealing purple lacy undergarments. She must got a lot of dough, those look expensive… His musings trailed off as his eyes wandered up the tanned mile long legs.

His brow furrowed, getting the distinct feeling he knew those legs. Maybe he'd seen this person before, but he couldn't be sure since he had yet to see her face.

Jane suddenly stiffened, sensing she wasn't alone. Straightening, she turned, eyes scanning the kitchen. A sharp intake of breath made her jump, dropping the pitcher as her hands came up to muffle a scream.

"Casper?" she whispered. But whoever was there had already left, leaving her to clean up the water and question her sanity.

Fatso had rushed out of there as fast as he could after seeing who this 'Jane' really was. He could barely contain his girlish squealing as he went to tell his brothers the news. Wait…

He came to a screeching stop, cursing the comical pealing-out noise if it woke anyone up. Did he really want to tell his brothers about this secret, or even anyone? He was surprised Kat hadn't figured it out, it was one of the only things they had in common…or maybe she already knew and didn't want to tell him. Biting his lip, he came to a conclusion.

No, he wasn't going to tell anyone.

In fact, he might be able to use it for his advantage.