Well, um, I did warn about this. I really didn't have internet for a long while after I made it home. I've got a new router, so I should be good for the next day and a half. I tried to write the next chapter much earlier, but I ended up with some REALLY random Harry Potter crossover. That won't pop up anytime soon… hopefully…
No way in Jack Sparrow's wacked-up little mind do those little rock-crabs say I own Danny Phantom.
Lancer carefully edged himself along the wall farthest from the chuckling mass of fog. He didn't care that it sounded like an obnoxious little boy, not even at middle school level. He just cared that it was entirely too invisible for his liking. It was too visible at the same time, which actually did make sense to his bemused mind. What wouldn't he give for life to make sense again?
It's been normal before? He rolled his eyes at the thought. Nothing could ever be normal in Amity, especially considering the Fenton's had been among the oldest known families to have lived there. Lancer vaguely wondered what the world would have been like in a Fenton less world. The class grade point average would go up… he thought wistfully, leading to the image of a bright classroom filled with sleeping children… or not.
All in all, it was poorly executed escape attempt. Honestly, he'd seen better from Fenton's detention escapades. It's really not fair of me to judge myself on those. The boy's a genius when he wants to be, he thought, remembering the several elaborate plans he had foiled. In all honesty, he wouldn't have found them out if Danny hadn't deliberately slipped up. They were a source of amusement in the drab detention center, but Lancer didn't need to know that.
He stopped cold as a chilling breeze rushed through him. Apparently, the boy wasn't alone in his attempts to put the teacher in an uncomfortable position. The sudden loss of his pants was testament to that. He gaped at his obnoxiously bright smiley-faced boxers for a half-minute before straightening up. There was no one but the mysterious fog-ghost to witness his embarrassment. Well, the new set of snickers wasn't a good sign to that conclusion. He glared at his khaki pants, floating just below the ceiling, not a good sign at all.
He was about to start a teacher-worthy rant about the immaturity the spirits were showing when someone rounded the corner on the other side of the hallway. Lancer paled.
It was Principal Ishyama.
Mwahahahahaha! I bet you all thought I was going to leave you there when you saw the line break.
Dani couldn't control the bubble of hysteria bursting forth from her mouth as she carried the teacher's pants to the ceiling. The arrival of the man's boss gave her the idea to turn them invisible. She quickly signaled to the strange, foggy ghost to follow suit and held her breath to keep from laughing again at the stuttered excuses. The woman had covered her eyes at the sight, announced that if he was really sick enough to forget his clothing, he should stay home for the day, and promptly left a fumbling mess of a teacher, still shielding her eyes.
Dani flew down to his height. "Well, now you know how that other kid felt."
"Mi-Mister Fenton?" Lancer's bewildered look spoke volumes. "What does his losing his pants last year have to do with this?"
"You don't think he honestly meant to let his pants fall down, did you?" she asked, still giggling slightly as his head swiveled in search of her form.
"That- That was ghosts? Why would they mess with him?"
"Why wouldn't a ghost want to mess with the son of two ghost hunters?" Not lying. Avoid the lies with more questions.
"Why didn't he tell someone?"
"Who would believe him?" Sad but true. "Besides, his parents are the type to shoot now, ask never. He's a good kid. He has a few friends he wouldn't want to have mauled by accident. Plus, he's never been the type to want his enemies harmed too badly. Just enough so that they'll quit bugging him for a while."
"He has ghost friends? Isn't that dangerous?" Lancer's mind looked to be working furiously for the moment.
"Hey, we're not all bad. Danny's a decent guy."
"What's your connection to him?" the man asked curiously, peering at the spot where his pants had reappeared and grabbing them quickly.
Her cheerful, teasing voice deserted her, giving way to a soft, almost wistful tone, "He gave me a family when mine betrayed me. He's the closest thing I'll ever have to a brother."
Lancer gave the empty space a skeptical look, "This is still Daniel Fenton we're talking about, right? And what in the name of Keeper of the Doves gave you the right to take my pants?"
If Lancer had seen the look on the girl's face, he would have darted down the hall in ten seconds flat, pants or no. As it was, the voice was maliciously happy enough to make him freeze in his redressing. "Danny and his friends were having a prank war that was interrupted by my… appearance. I'm in, and this is my initiation offering. Beware, Lancer, for this is a taste of what tomorrow will bring." With that parting shot, there was a flash of a green vortex that seemed to take the invisible entity with it.
"Hey, wait!" It was the nearly forgotten voice of the fog. "I want in, too!" it said, following invisibly as the green spiral closed suddenly behind it.
Lancer was left gaping, half-dressed, at the spot where it had disappeared.
An unfamiliar tune came in a whistle as the janitor moved his mop across the floor.
"You in for an interestin' day tomorra' man." He said off-handedly before carrying on his daily chores to the soft whistle of an old folk song.
Grr… I'm good at digging holes for myself…
HAPPY HALLOWEEN! Perfect day for an update, if I do say so myself.
Review?