Apologies, my dear readers, are in order for the lateness. They shouldn't get here until next week, though, so… (If you didn't get that, I meant I'll be late next week, too.) Exam week *shudders* I hope you understand. I'll be out of town next week, and I have no way of knowing if Wi-Fi will be available.

You wanna know something so obvious it hurts? I don't own Danny Phantom! (I know, ouch…)

William Lancer had never been the most caring of teachers. That much was clear after only five minutes of watching his hall monitoring skills. At least, it was clear to all those who, like most of the population, only gave a cursory glance before passing judgment. Lancer's favorite saying was, "Never judge a book by its cover." He prided himself in being an excellent judge of character.

So, it was at this fateful moment, two days after Mr. Fenton's "cross-fire" incident, that he was mentally berating himself. He couldn't be that wrong about Daniel, the Class A slacker and troublemaker.

Could he?

As he walked through the double doors of Casper High School at twelve o'clock sharp, he was too absorbed in the small sheet of paper clutched in his sweaty palm to notice that, not only were the students gone, but the teachers as well. He was utterly alone.

He sat calmly at his desk, still giving the paper his nearly undivided attention. The note wasn't easily legible, nor was it any less cryptic than one would expect from the trio of secret-keepers. He looked up and opened his mouth to begin his apology for being late, giving brief pause to his recent obsession.

His voice froze in his throat. He didn't know if it was due more to the shock or to anger. His footsteps echoed eerily in the still silence as he pounded his way back through the door and down the hall. Had there been anyone in the halls, the sound would have caused an immediate reaction of straightened backs, tucked-in shirts, and hushed conversations, often punctuated by giggles and synchronized pointing.

The empty halls, though, were just as mocking, even if their whispers were quieter. The sudden sound of a child's laughter caused him to about face immediately, ready to grill the teen for answers. A small puff of icy, thin mist was the only indication that someone might have possibly been there recently. He was making his way slowly now, keeping his back to the wall and watching the strange mist for any sudden movements.

"Boo!" the voice of a small boy came from seemingly everywhere and nowhere at once. Lancer jumped three feet in the air, coming back down inches from his previous location and… right onto Janitor Reynolds. Both men screamed in oddly high-and-low-pitched tones at the surprising collision.

Lancer came out halfway on top of the janitor, who was muttering under his breath. Lancer looked amazed at the string of Swahili. Shaking his head and standing, he held out a hand to help the other man up. Reynolds accepted it gratefully, immediately cutting of his speech in favor of English.

"Got you this time, didn' 'e, Lancer?" he said with a wink, chuckling a bit.

"What are you talking about?" William wasn't one to be confused often, but there was no shame in asking.

"That there's Youngblood. He likes a joke, tha' one does," he said, brushing the dirt off his uniform.

"Who's Youngblood?" Lancer asked, a little more agitated than before.

"He's a ghost," Reynolds answered simply before turning back to his cart and beginning the short trek back to his closet. He carried on conversationally, "Haven' seen Phantom 'round since the ghost came tis mornin'. Wonder where he's run off to?"

Lancer was still standing in the same spot, blinking at the now bright green mist in both terror and awe. It was laughing.

School is school, but weekends are heaven.

"Come on, Dani," Danny gently coaxed his look-alike away from the window. "Aging is not all that great. I mean, look at Jazz."

"Hey!"

Danny stuck his tongue out at her. Dani giggled as Jazz formed a sloppy punch to his shoulder. He pouted. "Sheesh, Jazz. See what I mean, Dani? She can't even take a joke!"

"I know it's not all that bad, but it's just… I'm not like the other ghosts here, and a lot of them hate you too much to even come near me. The ones that don't hate you either hate me because I'm Vlad's little experiment gone wrong or they think I'm just some obsessed fangirl. Vlad's little experiment, I can handle, but trying to be your clone because of obsession? That just bites."

Danny thought about it for a little while. He had no clue what to say. Apparently, Jazz wasn't any better off. He suddenly chuckled at a little thought, "Guess that just runs in my genes, eh? I've never been the one to make a bunch of friends easily. There's always one reason or another for them to hate me. You know how I got around that one?"

Dani cocked her head to the side.

"I found the two people who would take what they hated about me and turn it into something they put their trust in. You know? Make it a kind of controlled variable of your life. Sam will always be a vegetarian. While it's not something I agree with, I've made it something constant in my life. That's the kind of friend you need to make. Someone who'll take your stubborn attitude as something they'll depend on."

Dani had no idea how that made it easier to picture living her miserable half-life as a twelve-year-old, but it did. A nameless, shapeless person crept into her thoughts. Someone who really would accept her as Danielle, not Daniel. She gave a small smile. "Thanks, Danny. That helped. Can I come back to Amity with you for a while, though? No offense, Frostbite, but I'd like to spend some time with my cousin. I'll come back in a few days."

"No offense taken, Danielle," he replied with a chilled, but warm, smile.

I've been toying with the idea of a janitor for a while. Sorry about my first attempt at dialect. *Rubs neck nervously* Please don't be mad at the OC… It's not his fault I added him… I blame the bunnies!

Yes, I do realize that the cliffy is in the middle of the story. What's your point?