A/N: Chapter 6! Yay! I heard fangirl squeals about Impurity's little appearance. He's really everyone's favorite, isn't he? If you don't know already, I have a digital sketch of him on my devart account. Links on my profile. I'm definitely better at traditional work, but the digital sketches give you guys an idea. Anyway, read/review/fav/follow and ENJOY!

LunarCatNinja: Welcome! Glad you're enjoying the series so far!

Lera-Sing: Yeah, but other kids don't like how she just…vanishes and never gets in trouble for it. Really, they're jealous. More reasons to be explained…probably next chapter.

KaLeighSamantha: Worked with Kovich…

Chapter #6: Check

"Danny…you shouldn't terrify transfer students," Sam scolds, "Poor guy."

"He definitely has a thing for Dani. I'm just telling him to keep it clean."

"I'm pretty sure Dani can handle herself," she remarks dryly.

"Doesn't mean I can't help out," he grins.

"What are you going to do when she gets a boyfriend? Or when Jazz gets one? I know she's been too occupied with studying to bother with dating, but…"

"I'll do what I did earlier. I'll warn him to watch himself. I won't be spying on him, like I did Johnny…unless he gives me a really good reason."

She laughs and shakes her head, "Why, hello, Impurity."

"…Yeah, I'm fairly certain it stems from him. Jazz is my sister. Danielle is my clone. He tends to be protective of my things."

His fingers drum on the armrest of the chair.

"…I hate that there's a part of me that views you as things to be owned," he whispers.

"As long as there's a part of you that knows better to balance it out," she kisses his forehead, "So…what we didn't have nailed down for the wedding were the dresses for the bridesmaids. I don't want them to be the typical bridesmaid dresses. They're hideous…and you can only wear them once. Everyone jokes otherwise, but…"

"I think you've been watching 27 Dresses again," he smirks, watching the blush rise to her cheeks.

"…There are worse chick-flicks out there," she defends.

"I don't bother to rank them," he raises his hands in surrender, "A chick-flick is a chick-flick…and your love of them will stay with me to my grave..."

"Let's see, my Maid of Honor is Valerie…the other bridesmaids are Dani, Jazz, and Crystal…"

"Why are you consulting me about this?" He asks nervously, "I don't know anything about dresses."

"Because my mom won't listen to me, and you know more than my dad," she replies.

"Well…" he leans back into his seat, "You can't go wrong with black. Or you could do silver, to make a contrast with you."

Mental images of long, silver, chiffon dresses that secure around the neck flash through his mind.

"It's going to be a winter wedding, so I would suggest they have cloaks or something to help keep them warm," he answers.

He gets the same picture, but with black, fur-lined, hip-length shawls added to the ensemble.

"I think that would work. I'm no expert, though. I would consult them."

"…You were still helpful…somewhat," she nods.

"Glad to be of service," he smiles. His phone rings, and he snaps it to his ear, "Yeah, Mom?...I really have to go? Fine, fine, I'll meet you there. Yeah. See you in a few."

"The Police Station?" Sam questions.

"Yeah, unfortunately," he grimaces, "I can't get out of it this time."

"You'll be fine."

"I hope so."

"…You'll be better off than me."

"…Why?"

"Because I'm about to tell my mom that my bridesmaids are wearing silver – which is pretty close to white."

"Ah," he nods, "Only the bride wears white on her wedding day."

"Yep."

"…I really don't want to help you hide a body, Sam. Try not to kill her?"

"I promise nothing."

-BREAK-

"Detective Morrison."

"Stone," they each introduce themselves, "Thank you for coming, Mr. and Mrs. Fenton…is your son…?"

"He's coming. He was busy with wedding stuff, so he'll be here in a few minutes," Maddie explains.

Detective Stone nods and leads them through the hallways to the office she and Morrison are using. Photographs litter the table, and signs of a sleepless night – empty Styrofoam cups – lay discarded on the floor.

The couple take their seats, "So…you said there was something unusual?"

"Besides a desk from the third floor appearing under third-floor rubble? Yeah," he tosses the photo of the message to them, "Does this mean anything to you?"

"No…" Maddie mutters, "Seven days? Until what? Of what?"

"Look at the scorch patterns," Jack mutters, his eyes unusually focused, "Definitely ectoplasmic in origin…"

"Do you think that the pattern varies by ecto-signature?"

"If so, we might be able to track the one responsible…"

"We'll have to test."

"We'll have to ask for volunteers from ghosts with a hot core," Jack adds, "D…Destiny's cold core would make it a bit difficult to cause extensive, precise fire, so it has to be someone who is already affiliated with fire."

"I concur," Maddie nods.

The door swings open, and Danny jogs through, "Hey! Sorry I'm late. Did I miss anything important?"

"Danny, what do you think of this?" Maddie hands over the photo.

Detective Stone watches the grin fall from his face, his eyes going cold, "Nothing good, I'm guessing. It's ghost work, as I'm sure you've already figured out."

"Which ghosts have a hot core?"

"That could do this?" He sighs, massaging the back of his neck, "Ember, maybe, but this isn't her style. Skulker has a hot core too…I can't think of anybody who'd do this off the top of my head. While they have a hot core, few of them are capable of full-on pyrokinesis. Definitely not stuff this…delicate."

Stone watches the nervous façade slip away again. The eyes examining the photo are calm, collected, and she can almost see the information he's sorting through in his mind.

"There's only one…" His fist clenches, crushing the photo. Morrison leaps to snatch it away before it becomes damaged further.

"Who?"

"No, this…" he glares again in the direction of the photo, and then rushes from the room.

"Danny?"

-BREAK-

His eyes burn red, his fists clenching behind his back. His heartbeat hammers in his ears. He can feel Sam, in the corner of the room, watching him wear a hole in the carpet with his pacing.

"Danny, what's up? You've got me walled out," she finally comments, "Why are you pacing my carpet and growling like some sort of caged animal?"

"He's not dead, Sam," he growls.

Hunt him down. Finish him yourself.

"Who's not…?"

"Vlad!" he snarls, his cell phone crunching in his hand, "He's back, Sam. I'm sure of it."

"How?" she whispers, receiving a mental image of the photograph. While his mind is open, she feels around delicately. Rage boils beneath a tight leash, and she can hear Impurity egging it on.

"He's the only ghost I know who can do something so…finicky. It's just his style, too."

"You've kicked his butt before, I'm sure you can do it again," she assures.

"Sam, he wouldn't tell me without reason. He's a chess-master, remember? No, this…" he tosses his ruined cell aside, the tiny bits scattering into the corner, "This is him, declaring Check, and I don't know where my King is or where to move him."

Kill the source of the attack before it happens. Look at everything he's done to you, Danny. Would you really regret it?

"Something really bad is about to happen," Danny whispers, collapsing into the sofa, "And I don't know how to stop it. I don't even know what I need to stop."

"You don't need to carry the world on your shoulders, Danny," Sam whispers, taking his hand in hers, "You can't be expected to stop every little problem before it happens. The important thing is to be there when it does."

"…Thank you," he whispers, his eyes beginning to fade back to blue.

"Look on the bright side," she begins.

"Bright side?"

"He can't possibly be worse than my mom."