A/N: Long time no see guys! I'm currently working on the second chapter of One Month, but in the meantime I got struck by this, so enjoy:
There is something entirely inhuman about the hours between three and five o'clock in the morning. It is a time better left to ghosts, goblins and things that go bump in the night. Or at the very least left to insomniacs and drunks.
I shiver then cross my arms and bounce a little in an attempt to warm myself. It's in vain because it's cold enough to see my breath and I'm not only wearing a skirt but also neglected to bring a coat. Then again I hadn't planned on being out at three in the morning when the temperature is inevitably lower than the rest of the day.
Oh, wait. Make that three forty-six in the morning.
Bloody hell.
"Remind me again why we are doing this?" I ask my companion.
"Because we're both insane?" he replies, never pausing to look up from the piece of electronic equipment held in his gloved fingers. The jerk doesn't look cold at all, but then he's wearing a coat. And pants.
I roll my eyes at him, far too irritated to appreciate the humour. It was a rhetorical question anyway. I know why I'm here. I'm here as support for my best friend/potential boyfriend. And I don't mean emotional support either, though I suppose we do that too. I mean support in the military sense. Me and Tuck, here? We're the calvary.
Frozen Goth Girl and Techno Geek! Here to save the day! Or night. Or whatever.
Yay for us.
But I suppose that's what you get for having a best friend who spends well over three quarters of his free time fighting ghosts. You heard me. Ghosts.
You know that crack I made about the early hours of the morning being better left to ghosts, goblins and things that go bump in the night? Totally not true. Not that I've ever seen a goblin, and the only things that are going bump in the night right now are myself and Tucker. But ghosts? I've seen plenty of ghosts. When even the good ones tend to spell trouble you really don't want them kicking around too much.
Well, unless the ghost happens to be your best friend and the guy you have a crush on. That's different. Besides, he's a halfa. Human and ghost at the same time, so it's entirely another realm.
Damn it's chilly.
You probably want an explanation at this point. Too bad for you, you aren't getting it. I'm not getting into a long drawn out discussion about my life with some figment of my imagination. Not right now anyway. Not when we've been running around the whole night dealing with some new ghost with a name I don't care about, finally coming up with a plan only to have Danny be late.
Where the hell is he anyway?
It's not the first time Danny has played the bait - we've all had our turns. But he hasn't been quite this late before. But I'm not worried. Not worried at all. Danny is basically a professional at this, all of us are. Danny can take care of himself. Danny is not lying dead or dying in a ditch somewhere.
Okay, so I'm not good at lying to myself. Sue me.
I can see that Tucker is bothered by the total lack of Danny too. The trap is all ready to go and all we have to do is stand here and wait.
And worry.
"There," Tucker says suddenly, pointing at the dark sky. Squinting I finally manage to pinpoint what he's looking at: Danny followed closely by our ghost of the day.
I breathe a sigh of relief.
At this point things go more or less according to plan, Danny gets the ghost where it needs to be, Tucker does his techno-magic and I point a Fenton Thermos in the proper direction. Boom, bang, done.
Too bad we're all going to be in massive trouble for saving the town from yet another ghost.
"Sorry I was so late guys," Danny says as soon as the ghost is taken care of. "Stupid thing had me chasing it all over town and then mom and dad showed up, and well, you know how that goes."
I shrug and give him a smrik, "Not a big deal. We knew you'd show. I'd have to kick your sorry ass if you didn't."
A flash of light later and blue-eyed Danny Fenton is grinning back at me. Amazing how quickly you can get used to that. Flash, blue, flash, green, flash, Fenton, flash, Phantom. It doesn't matter, it's still just Danny.
"And then I'd have to put the pieces back together," Tucker complains jokingly.
The three of us share a laugh and begin walking home. We could fly, but Danny looks tired and we're late enough that the extra time isn't going to change the fact that we are all grounded for the rest of forever.
"Oh, Sam," Danny pauses and takes off his coat. "Here, you look like you're freezing."
Tucker makes some lovebird comment under his breath while I make the obligatory crack about sexism still being sexism, even when the guy is trying to be sweet. But I put the coat on anyway and share a shy smile with Danny.
Yeah. A little cold in the early morning doesn't mean anything.
This is completely worth it.