A/N: Chapter 12~! …It's sad that I find myself thinking "AAAAAAHHHHHH! I haven't updated in FOREVER!" when it's been…a little more than a week for COF, but I updated The Funeral Singer on the 6th and TWO Zelda fanfics on the 7th…I will admit, however, that I've been slacking for the past few days from a mixture of laziness and marathoning anime and manga.

I'm going to tell you the same thing I did to readers of The Funeral Singer:

Reviews are important. A lot of time, your feedback affects my choices – sometimes I'm torn between two storylines that I really like, and it's YOUR feedback that ensures you're getting the story we'll all enjoy better. Not only that, but if it takes me more than…what, three days or so…to update, post another review and remind me to get my butt in gear!

This is probably going to be the case with the (possible) triangle between Darren, Jazz, and Ghost Writer. When I was writing Adrift, I asked what you would think of a JazzxGW pairing, and the answers were mixed, with many of them dubious. While I feel like I favor JazzXGW, I want to experiment and see if I – if we – change our minds. I admit that Jazz and GW have some problems as a pairing: He's immortal, she's not. He's a ghost, an anti-life being who has passed through death. Anyway, Darren is now part of my little play-set here, and we'll see what happens. See if I can like him.

I'm still working on a shipping name for JazzxGW. Poetic Insight and Turquoise Calligraphy both have two votes…crap, I have to introduce another name…um…first, I'll give you the official list: Literary Analysis, Poetic Insight, Therapeutic Prose, Turquoise Scarf, Brainy Author, Therapeutic literature, Psychoanalytic Poetry, Psychology Writer, Turquoise Calligraphy, Library Love…and now…um …Writer's Insight? Remember to tell me your votes!

Chapter #12: Arrivals in Elmerton

"So help me, Tucker, if you aren't here in the next five minutes–"

"Geez, Val, chill. I'm almost there. It's not my fault they took four hours to find my luggage!"

"I just…" she pouts, "I miss you, Babe."

"I miss you too. I'm at the corner of Elm and Crossing."

"I could be there within thirty seconds with my sled…"

"We are not taking your sled, Valerie. It won't kill me to walk from the bus stop to the café. Just…give it a second. Absence and the heart and all…!" she can hear his voice waver, and a horn honks in the background. Tucker swears viciously under his breath.

"Nice try at being romantic," she snorts.

"Some idiot just ran a red light and nearly ran me over. I think I have the right to be a little hurried."

"Oh?" she arches an eyebrow, "What does the car look like? Did you get its license plate?"

"Val…" he begins warningly, "You are not going to hunt down some unknowing sod in his car."

"Babe…"

"Val…"

They wait in tense silence for a moment, until she looks up through the windows of the café and sees him, pulling a single suitcase. Their eyes meet, and she can hear the call disconnect in her ear.

He looks almost the same as he did at Christmas, when they shared pizza over Skype. She rushes out the door, sweeping her purse over her shoulder, and hugs him hard enough to rock him backwards. He laughs, a low chuckle, as he places his lips firmly on hers, "Good to see you too, Val," he grins.

"Almost didn't," she presses another quick kiss to his lips, "Sure you don't want to…inform that driver that he needs to watch himself?"

His grin falls, his eyes narrowed in frustration, "Val…leave it. He's long gone."

"But Tucker…" she pouts, brushing her lips against his neck. His breath hitches momentarily, and she can't resist a smirk – it's one of his weak spots, the little hollow in his throat between his jaw and ear.

"It's no use, Val," he answers tensely.

"Is that so?" she purrs, tracing innocent little circles on his chest.

"Keep this up," he growls back, his breath hot on her ear, "And the only place it's going to lead is a hotel room."

"Oh?" she smirks.

"Get a room!" someone calls from the café, turning their cheeks red; Tucker's more than hers. He slings an arm around her shoulder, and they walk to her convertible, throwing his luggage into the trunk.

"I can't believe you drove here all the way from Stanford."

"It's less than two days. We needed a car, and neither of us are old enough to rent one," she snorts, "Because someone refuses to use the sled."

"Could it really hold us and our luggage?"

She frowns, her hands planted at her hips, and raises a single eyebrow, "It can haul two large, burly, government agents off of their feet against their will and carry them to an office in Amity Park's City Hall," she answers dryly.

"Point made," he laughs, "and public transportation is out of the question."

She grimaces, "Absolutely."

"It would've taken less time for me to drive here, Val. It's what…Thirty or so hours from Stanford? It's a little more than twenty from Cabridge."

"Your car couldn't make it," she snorts.

"True," he sighs, buckling in.

She starts the car and they pull out into Elmerton's streets, easing their way through traffic towards Amity Park.

"So have you heard the news?" he asks.

"What news?"

"Kitty and Johnny are finally getting married," he grins, "I told Danny to get us a couple of invites when they have the date pinned down."

"About time," she snorts, "I mean, I've always considered them…indefinitely engaged, myself."

"Yeah," he fall quiet, "I guess it shows how old we're getting. Johnny and Kitty are getting married, so are Danny and Sam. Box Ghost and Lunch Lady are going to have a kid soon. I still feel like I turned sixteen yesterday, though. Is that weird?"

"No," she laughs softly, and he watches the wind pull at her curled hair, "Feeling like you're sixteen, anyhow," a wry grin spreads on her face, "We're only nineteen, Tuck. You shouldn't be reminiscing like an old man before you're old enough to drink."

"Tell me you haven't done it either, Val," he whispers back.

"…I think the only thing that inspires that feeling is Danny and Sam's wedding, honestly," she answers, "I mean, I know why…I know why they aren't hesitating. They're made for each other – don't get me wrong – but…"

"They just don't want to miss anything," he finishes, "Danny's like a candle, sitting outside. It'll probably be okay, but it might burn your house down. The wind makes it flicker, sometimes you even think it might put it out, but it doesn't. Regardless, you find yourself watching the sky for clouds, waiting for rain, praying it never comes. The only difference is that you can relight a candle."

The drive in silence for a while, watching the Minnesota countryside pass them by. She glances over at him once in a while, his eyes closed and his seat reclined.

"…I wish I could take his place, sometimes," he whispers finally, "…Have you ever seen him when he can't fulfill his obsession, Val?"

She shakes her head.

"It starts with little things, at first. He looks tired, a bit paler than usual. Then he begins to get clammy to the touch, and the muscle spasms begin. Little ones, mostly in his hands. He begins to feel nauseated, and then he starts coughing. He said…" he clenches a hand, "…that it was like being electrocuted all over again, the worse it got. He couldn't sleep – he'd relive his death. He remembers it, you know, the accident. His heart clamping in his chest, his lungs paralyzed…the fear he felt, realizing that he couldn't inhale another breath…" his voice is tight, wavering slightly.

"…I'm not sure if I could be as strong as Sam," she sniffs after a few minutes.

"She's not as strong as she looks," he whispers, "she's terrified of it. She's had nightmares ever since the accident. They change a little, but it's always the same. Danny's funeral. She called me up one night, a little after the Pariah Dark incident, and just cried. Sobbed. She didn't even say anything. She just cried into the receiver for more than an hour," he forces a smirk onto his face, "The only thing she actually said was 'If you tell anyone, Foley, especially Danny, I'll skin your PDAs and then you. Alive.'"

"I'm totally telling her you told me," Val grins, watching the blood drain from his face.

"Please don't," he pleads, "I'll do anything."

"I don't know…you did break her trust…"

"We weren't friends with you at the time," he snorts, "Or she probably would've called you…I just…Sam's my friend, Val. I want you to understand her. It always ticked me off when people at school would write her off as 'unfeeling,' and I want to make sure you aren't one of them."

"…I'll let you off easy," she decides finally, earning a relieved sigh.

"…But I didn't say scot-free, now did I?"

A/N: Now that the main cast in nearly assembled, the real plot should be kicking off in the next few chapters! I've been giving little hints until now…Oh, and expect a Danielle chapter! She hasn't had one in a while. :D