"I think men who have a pierced ear are better prepared for marriage. They've experienced pain and bought jewelry." - Rita Rudner

That afternoon, Sam, Tucker and I spend all of five minutes studying at Tucker's kitchen table before those two get down to business.

Sam slaps her hands on the table. "Okay, let's be real. Danny, we didn't actually invite you to study."

Tucker grins and rubs his hands together. "What we want is some juicy details!"

I prop my elbows on the table and rest my chin on my folded hands. The picture of innocence. "Whatever do you mean?"

"Don't play around, Danny," Sam says. She rests her arms on the table and leans forward, and Tucker copies her pose. "How'd it go with Mira?"

Considering the fuzzy feeling in my stomach at the memories, there's no point in fighting my smile. "It was great! We watched TV. Cuddled a little. Ate a killer lasagna Mira brought over."

My friends' gazes are drilling through my soul. "That's nice," Tucker drawls. "Now for the million dollar question: Are you still a virgin?"

…Is that what this is about?

Tucker points at me and grabs Sam's arm. "Oh! Oh! He's blushing! I knew it!" He points emphatically at Sam. "You owe me twenty bucks!"

Sam chuckles. "For once, I don't mind being wrong. Good for you, Danny!"

I look from one person to the other, feeling a little betrayed. "Did…did you guys bet on whether or not Mira and I would have sex?"

Tucker jerks his thumb toward Sam. "This one thought you'd wait until marriage like a good little white boy." He proudly jabs his thumb at his chest. "But, I said that you were a red-blooded male who was spending the night alone with his girlfriend. So spill, man. Tell us everything!"

I cross my arms and turn away with an indignant huff. "No way. Not after you jackasses had the nerve to turn my blossoming sex life into a competition."

"Ah, come on," Tucker whines, not the least bit sorry. (I'm not that angry, but it's the principle!) "Sam and I are virgins. We have to live vicariously through you right now."

"Who says I'm a virgin?" Tucker and I snap to attention, which increases the amount of smugness in Sam's voice. "I don't tell you guys everything."

Tucker is the first to recover from this new knowledge of our mutual best friend. He shakes his head clear and says to me, "I need to live vicariously through you right now. I also need a girlfriend, but that can come later."

"Or, you could get a friend with benefits," Sam suggests. "That's what I did."

This time I'm the first to recover. "I'll tell you this. We did it twice. Once for each form." Technically, three times and twice in my human-form if you include the shower this morning, but I'm not going to tell my friends that. I fold my hands on the table. "No, I don't have a preference. It's awesome either way."

Tucker nods, hungry for details he's not getting. "Okay. Anything else?"

I mime zipping my lips and throwing away the key.

Sam chimes in before Tucker can start begging. "Let it go, Tucker. Just be happy for Danny."

"I am happy for Danny," Tucker argues. "I just wanna know what it's like!"

I chuckle. "Your time will come, Tuck. For now…" I lean forward and grin at Sam. "Tell us more about this 'friend with benefits' of yours."

Sam smirks and copies my lip-zipping motion.

Dad is alone in the living room with his needlepoint. This is the perfect opportunity for an awkward father-son talk. And, it is going to be awkward. I have a terrible feeling that he's going to make me put a condom on a banana or something equally uncomfortable. And, I'll be the reddest I've ever been because I now have real-life experience and no desire to tell either of my parents that.

But, I really need to talk to Dad.

I clear my throat as I approach, drawing his attention. "Hey, Dad? Are you up for an awkward father-son talk?"

Dad smiles and sets his project on the couch cushion beside him. He only just started, so I can't tell what it is yet. "I'm always up for one of those, son." He stands and pushes me on to the couch. "You wait here, and I'll get the ice cream."

Why he insists that these talks include ice cream, I have no idea.

While he's gone, I ponder what I'm going to say.

I want Mira to be my wife. Too forward. Dad will lecture me on how I should wait until graduation at least, which I already know.

I'm in love with Mira. Too vague. Dad will either press for details or skip to the part with the condom and the banana.

Mira and I had sex last night. Absolutely not.

By the time Dad gets back with two bowls of vanilla ice cream in tow, I still haven't figured it out. He sits down beside me and hands me a bowl. I thank him and busy myself with spooning ice cream into my mouth. Dad doesn't speak. He simply eats his own ice cream and lets me gather my thoughts.

My eyes are drawn to a photograph on the wall. It's of Mom and six-year-old me at the park. I'm mid-run in her direction, and she is on the ground with her arms out, ready for me to throw myself into them. The picture makes me smile.

And, brings some inspiration.

"Dad," I say finally, "how did you know Mom was the one for you?"

Dad pops the spoon out of his mouth and processes my question. He swallows with an understanding smile. "Things with you and Mira are getting pretty serious, eh?"

My whole body warms despite the ice cream. "Yeah."

Dad sets his half-empty bowl in his lap and wraps his arm around me, bringing me closer. "Well, Danny, every relationship is different. As for me… Remember when I told you I dropped out of college?"

I nod, my mood darkening with sympathy. After the accident that gave Vlad Masters ghost powers (though Mom and Dad wouldn't learn that detail until way later), Dad didn't trust himself in a lab anymore. He felt so awful that he dropped out of college and worked two jobs while Mom continued her studies. After she graduated, she encouraged him to watch her work and jump in whenever he wanted. It's thanks to her that Dad was able to rekindle his love for science and, more importantly, his faith in himself.

"I think the moment I knew for certain that your mom was the one came the first time I worked on a project with her. It wasn't anything ghost-related. Her parents' refrigerator was on the fritz, and she was taking a shot at fixing it. I asked if I could help." He smiles gently, lovingly at the memory. "You should have seen how happy she was."

I fight down a giggle because I think I know answer to my next question. "Did you fix the fridge?"

"Nope." Called it. "It burst into flames, and the fire department had to be called. Luckily, her parents weren't home at the time and, by some miracle, there wasn't too much damage." He chuckles. "When your mom and I got outside to safety, she and I took one look at each other and started cracking up! I think it was the stress. But, something clicked for me at that moment. It was like my mind just said," he clicks his tongue and points at something I can't see, "'That's her.' You got a moment like that, son?"

Dancing in the kitchen. Saying loving words to each other. The smell of fresh pancakes filling the air shortly after.

"I can think of one," I say.

Dad leans in close like he's telling me a secret. "Well, keep in mind, you're still in high school. I'm glad you've found someone, but you at least wanna wait until you graduate before you take it any further. In fact!" Dad sets his ice cream bowl on the table and takes off upstairs, calling, "I'll be right back!"

I keep eating while he grabs whatever he's looking for then comes back down and hurries into the kitchen. When he returns to his spot beside me, he hands me…a condom and a banana.

Yep. Saw that coming. Doesn't make my face any less red, though.

"Uh, Dad?" I stammer. "Didn't we already do this when you thought Bub was my biological child?"

"Yes," Dad drawls. "But, now that you and Mira are serious, I want to double-check that you know what you're doing."

I haven't taken the…objects yet, and you better believe I have a death-grip on my bowl of ice cream. "But, I can't even have kids until I'm fully dead!"

"Which will happen one day," Dad counters. "Hopefully not any time soon, but it's good to be prepared."

I'm not getting out of this, am I?

A week later, Mira and I finally get around to having our parents meet each other. (My sister has already met Mira's parents, and that went pretty well.) We decided to have the meeting at Mira's house in Oakland, Nebraska so that there was less risk of ghost attacks and/or dinner coming to life. Of course, we didn't tell Mr. and Mrs. Scott that.

After the initial introductions and me fending off wet kisses from the family dog, Mira asks me to join her in the kitchen and help her make the pizza. But, the moment we step in there - I'm in human-form, by the way - Mira whispers to me, "I don't actually want your help."

I half-expected that, but I'm still somewhat offended. "I'm not that bad a cook."

"I know. But, I was hoping you could eavesdrop for me."

That makes sense. Mira's parents know that my parents used to hunt me in hopes of dissecting me. Assuming Mira never said anything, we didn't tell them that my folks have hunted her as well. I've assured her parents that mine changed their tune after learning their son was half-ghost, but I know they still worry.

Before I commence eavesdropping, I open the jar in my hands and give the contents an appraising look. When Dad learned Mira would make us pizza, he insisted she use his homemade tomato sauce. Dad's cooking has caused problems in the past, but the sauce doesn't move or bubble or make any noises when the lid comes off, so it should be fine.

I set the jar down and turn invisible before stepping into the dining room.

Natalie, Mira's mother, is speaking hesitantly. She is a white woman with chin-length light brown hair and bright blue eyes. "So…Danny tells us you study ghosts."

Andrew, Mira's father chimes in more sternly. He is also white but has dark blond hair and brown eyes. "And, that you used to be rather trigger-happy with them." Natalie smacks his arm, but his expression doesn't change.

My parents flinch but don't deny it. Mom clears her throat and folds her hands on the table. "Things are different now. Learning about our son's…situation made us rethink a lot of things."

"So," Andrew says with a raised eyebrow, "you're saying that our daughter is safe in your home?"

"Completely," Mom promises.

Natalie chimes in with, "I understand that your house has a lot of ghost sensors in it. Are those dangerous?"

"They…used to be," Mom confesses. "But, we've reprogrammed them so that they only activate when sensing ghosts Danny hasn't given the stamp of approval to."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning that ghosts Danny and his sister are close to, like Mira, don't trigger the sensors at all," Mom explains proudly.

Dad speaks up for the first time. "Andrew, Natalie, we don't know how much Danny told you, but we know what you must think of Maddie and I. I'll give it to you straight. Danny thinks the world of your daughter, and that alone motivates us to keep her safe. Right, Mads?"

"Absolutely," Mom agrees.

Touched and satisfied, I return to the kitchen and regain visibility. Yippy, the Scotts' stark white chihuahua, is sitting beside Mira while she pours Dad's tomato sauce and various toppings on the rolled out dough.

"How's it going?" Mira asks me.

"It's going," I say with a real smile. "And, thank God for that!"

Mira sighs in relief. Then she caves and tosses Yippy a very small piece of pepperoni, which he gobbles up in an instant. I don't think he even tastes it. Or, chews it.

"I really want our families to get along," I say. "Our lives will be a lot easier if they do."

"Agreed," Mira says.

She has no idea that I mean our married lives will be easier. Assuming she says yes. I'm going to do my best to hold out until graduation. I may be a senior, but it's only November. It's going to be a while, but I know in my heart that it will be worth the wait.

I fuss over Yippy while Mira finishes preparing the dough. She puts the pizza in the oven then heads to the sink to wash her hands. Then she and I move to join our parents in the dining room.

We stop and turn around when we hear Yippy growling and barking. He is crouched with his ears back and his beady little eyes locked on the oven. A sinking feeling overtakes me.

Especially when a loud banging is heard from inside the oven.

Mira lunges and yanks Yippy out of the way just in time for the oven door to slam open. Uncooked dough flies out of the oven and hovers in the middle of the kitchen. Somehow the pepperoni slices arranged themselves into a pair of angry eyes, and the pizza has a real mouth with real teeth.

Damn it all! The tomato sauce actually seemed safe for once!

"Jack," I hear Mom chastise, "I thought you'd perfected that sauce."

Dad stammers a bit, and Natalie screams, "Why is the pizza alive?!"

I hold out my hand and blast the sucker before it can do any damage. It slams into the thankfully closed cupboards on the other side of the room, splattering dough and sauce and toppings everywhere and dripping on to the counter top.

"It isn't," I say triumphantly.

I turn around to check on everyone. Mom has a hand over her face and looks thoroughly embarrassed. Dad is beet red and smiling anxiously at Mira's parents, who both look like they're about to have heart attacks.

This meeting started out well...

Dad rises from his chair. "I-I'll clean that up. I'm pretty sure it was my fault it happened. Where are your cleaning supplies?"

Mira nods at the sink. "Under the sink. And no, Yippy," she adds to the dog in her arms, who is staring intently at the lifeless pizza stain, "you can't eat that."

Yippy is starting to drool.

When Dad comes into the kitchen to clean, Mira says casually, "There's a Chinese place down the road. I can look up the menu. I'd offer to fly down and pick it up, but they aren't super into ghosts, so…"

Her eyes linger on me, so I say placatingly, "Certainly, dear. I would be happy to fly down as a ghost and grab the food as a human."

"That's fine with me," Mom says.

"Me, too," Dad says.

Natalie is frozen in her chair, and her husband slowly walks into the kitchen, stares at the pizza stain my father is in the process of cleaning, points to it, and exclaims to everyone, "The pizza just came to life. And, nobody thinks that's odd?"

Dad becomes very invested in cleaning. Mom says with an awkward shrug, "We understand if we aren't invited back."

Andrew gawks at me and Mira now. Mira is still perfectly casual when she says, "This is why Danny, Jazz, or Mrs. Fenton does the cooking when I come over."

There is a mortified grin on my face when I add, "Welcome to the family. You have my condolences."

Things get a little better once the pizza is cleaned up and the Chinese food has been ordered. When I come back from picking it up, the tension has eased and we are able to eat in peace, but I can't help thinking the meeting's been ruined.

After the meal, I pull Mr. and Mrs. Scott upstairs. I fold my hands together and beg, "Please don't hate my parents! They're good people! They're just chaotic!"

"Danny, we like your parents just fine," Andrew assures. "We were just…thrown off by the pizza."

A statement that does not make me feel better. "I just really want you guys to get along. 'Cause, I…" Want to marry your daughter. "Mira means so much to me and-and I just…" I give up and groan into my hands.

I look up when Natalie puts a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Danny, we don't hate your parents. We just never want your father to cook anything again."

The sad thing is that that wasn't necessarily a joke. "You really don't hate them?"

"Nah." Andrew pats me on the back. "Since Mira…you know." Died, is what he means. My parents have trouble saying it about me, too. "We've accepted that weird things are going to happen around here." He shrugs with a self-deprecating chuckle. "Of course, plenty of things still surprise us."

"We like you, Danny," Natalie adds sweetly. "It's plain to see how much you care about our daughter, and you make her really happy. So," her smile turns a little pained, "we can get used to your family's strangeness."

I hope so. If Mira says yes when the time comes, they're going to have to. "Thank you," I breathe out in relief. "But, I think they'll tone it down after this. And, hey, at least my sister's normal, right?"

"Bring her over next time," Andrew insists. Natalie glares at him.

Okay, so this didn't go as flawlessly as I wanted it to. But, at least Mr. and Mrs. Scott aren't too angry. Maybe there's hope that they will be friends with my parents. Or, at least tolerate them. The latter is probably the best they can do at this point, but I'll take what I can get.

Of course, I need to pop the question first. And, I need to graduate before I can do that. Fingers crossed I can wait that long.

Thanks for reading, and I'll see you in Part 25!