Ah. Hi. Sorry. This is proof that I'm not yet dead. So I haven't updated for a while. I got a few reasons for that, i.e. my original laptop died with my original chapter so then I had to get a new chapter written on top of life's ups and downs and general distractions.

Ahem.

So without further ado, the next installment of Phantom Secrets. Enjoy

Danny raced through the empty hallways to the front of the school, slamming open both of the double doors and running straight into Lancer. The vice-principal didn't even rock back as Danny's tush hit the floor; he just crossed his arms and sneered, "Going somewhere?"

Absently rubbing his backside (he hit the concrete hard), Danny returned to his feet, "Uhm…ah…no?"

Lancer glared, his nostrils flaring with disgust, "So where do you think you're going?"

"Back inside?" offered Danny, already creeping backwards.

The boy slunk back through the school doors even as Lancer announced, "And serving another detention tomorrow!"

The bell rang before Danny could decide if he could risk sneaking out as a ghost. The downtrodden boy stole into the room and his seat just before the teacher began class.

His desk partner, the ever loving football player, looked at him contemptuously, "Dude, where's your bag?"

"I forgot I left it at home," muttered Danny.

Dash chuckled rudely, "Idiot."

The day passed slowly for the teenager, getting zeros on homework, sitting through a mind numbing detention, and his muscles generally refusing to move after the trauma they went through yesterday and without so much as a ghost to distract him. Sitting by the window, he watched the clouds roll by as Lancer filled the silent room with scratches from his red grading pen. As soon as the boy was released from the tedium, he headed to the police station.

A fairly burly man sat behind the desk, munching on fried dough in one hand and typing with his pointer finger on his free hand.

"Hi? I think my backpack-"

"Another backpack claim?" the man grunted, "Go to Officer O'Donnell, third desk on the left."

Danny blinked at the dismissal but silently headed further into the station. He came upon a small man with russet hair who positively beamed, "Are you here about the back pack?" At Danny's nod, he asked, "Did you file a missing item claim here?"

"Well, no, but I-"

"Look, kid," the man cut him off, losing the smile, "So many people have tried to claim this backpack that it will take me all night to go through the claims. Go fill out another form and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Danny blanched a little, "Look, my name's Danny Fenton-"

"There was no name on the backpack. Beat it."

"I know!" Danny snapped irritably, "But inside I had my school work and binders."

"Which is how the verification process works. Since this backpack was dropped at the scene of the crime-"

"It was dropped out in a alleyway! It wasn't actually in the scene of the crime!"

That rewarded the boy with the policeman's attention, "Well in that case, if you could come this way. We have some questions to ask you…"

It took awhile to reassure the officers that: no, he didn't have anything to do with the fire; no, he didn't see anyone near the flames what with being a couple blocks away; and yes, losing the backpack was a completely separate incident, could I please have my backpack now cause its getting kinda late and my mom and dad would get worried; yes Fenton as in the big neon sign with the crazy kooks inside who most likely can cause EVERYONE in this establishment a serious headache if they come looking for me including a certain chief; and no, officers, it had been no trouble at all really, sorry I couldn't help…

Needless to say, the boy was rather exhausted when he finally left, backpack in tow. Then, for the second time today, he ran straight into somebody. Luckily, he stayed on his feet. Unluckily, he ran into Ken who was sporting a rather terrifying grin.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no," Danny protested as the blonde grabbed the boy's bicep and began to drag him to a more isolated area, "I really can't do this today. I don't care if Clockwork sent you! I'm tired and sore and I really don't want to."

Ken smiled at him and talked over his pleas, "You'd do the exercises we worked on yesterday and then we'd get down to the really good stuff." The man propelled Danny into an empty building that he commandeered yesterday and yanked the backpack off his shoulder, "Go on, and get to it."

Danny groaned but went ghost. As he trained in the dusty rooms, Ken took out a very familiar floppy disc and twirled it around his fingers as he headed to a table with a cloth-covered object. Although lacking an audience, he whipped the cloth off with a showy flourish to reveal a limp faceless dummy. Humming a pointless melody, the man rolled the dummy to his side and inserted the disc into the small of his back. He dropped it back down, still humming. It clicked and whirled and booted up. The dummy slowly sat up on its own, and Ken couldn't resist cackling, "It's alive!"

The dummy flung his arms open in a grandiose gesture before pausing, finding something amiss. The hands flung up and frantically clawed his face in the areas his mouth and eyes would be.

"What the hell is that?" cried Danny, who came to investigate as soon as he heard the man cry. He flew straight at the dummy, his fist clenched and drawn back and….

"Stop!"

Danny paused, his fist a mere inch away from the dummy's featureless face.

"What do you think you are doing?"

"I thought that it was attacking-!"

Scoffing, Ken corrected, " It's a training apparatus. What sort of intel did you gather before leaping into the fray? Absolutely none! This is the type of habit we need to break you of."

"Training apparatus?" repeated Danny, eyeing the dummy that was flaying his hands out wildly in obvious panic, "As what? Citizen rescue? Why is it moving like that?"

"Hey, that's a good idea. But no, this will be your sparring partner?"

"Sparring?"

Ken merely smiled, directing Danny and the awkward mannequin to different sides of the room. He yelled out, "Begin!"

Danny woke the next morning already late. He stiffly got up and gathered his uncompleted homework to stuff in his backpack.

That stupid dummy. At first, Danny hadn't felt the best about using the punching bag because its sporadic movements just felt like he was bullying some nerd who couldn't fight back.

Then suddenly it was as if the object had an epiphany and started shooting freaking ectoplasm blasts. The first one Danny automatically dodged but then his brain caught up and while he was freaking out at Ken about the new ability the second flash caught him right in the gut.

Speaking of which, Danny paused in while changing his shirt and poked his now multi-colored bruise spread across his stomach and torso. Wincing, the boy decided to forgo his usual t-shirt and pulled on one with long sleeves to hide where the stupid dummy clipped him when Ken told him just to work on dodging and not to fight back.

Then remembering he was late, the boy raced out of the house and sprinted to school, once again cursing Jazz's pet status and going early to help out teachers.

Lancer was waiting for him in the empty yard and Danny knew the day wasn't going to go his way.

"Danny, Danny, Danny. One might say you like our little dates like yesterday's."

Danny slumped but still tried, "Mr. Lancer, please. I was just going to-."

Lancer's hand gripped the boy's forearm in a flash. Right on a fresh bruise. Danny involuntary made a full-bodied twitch but bit in lip sharply in a refusal to cry out. Already, the teacher's hand was loosening even as he propelled his student out into the school and down the hall to his office.

They both entered the barren room silently. Lancer finally released the boy and sat down but still keeping an eye on him.

Danny slowly slipped his backpack off and hesitantly slid in the seat, half believing that if he just went slowly enough, someone (maybe Mrs. Smith) would burst in and save him. But he sat down without any interruption, not meeting the man's gaze. The two sat there for a full minute quietly and unmoving. Finally, the teacher said snidely that homework is usually done in here and, knowing Danny, his homework certainly could use the help.

Danny refrained from rising to the bait but bent down to open his backpack. Pain flooded through his body along with the urge to puke. Danny gulped wildly to fight that urge but managed to grabbed the materials and lift them to the desk. Breathing slowly out of his mouth, Danny glanced up to see a raised eyebrow. Averting back to the homework, his bandaged hand fumbling with the pencil, the boy missed the man's face betraying angry confusion.

Half the day passed, the only noise coming from scratching of pencil on paper, this time only Danny. Several glances up informed the boy that the man simply watched Danny with a superb poker face that must come from years of dealing with teenagers. Finally, Lancer got up and loomed over Danny. The boy looked up just as Lancer seemed to come to a decision, "Get up."

The student paused in bewilderment but, at Lancer's glower, scrambled to his feet. Lancer folded his arms over his chest, effectively trapping Danny between the big man and the table, "So what went on yesterday?" At Danny's look, Lancer deigned to explain, "I'm giving you a chance now. So what happened yesterday to make you late again?"

"I went to the police station," said Danny, not offering any further explanation.

Lancer frowned, coming to his own conclusions, "Have you gotten any medical attention?"

"What? No, of course not."

Lancer removed himself from Danny's personal space in favor of pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration, "'Of course not' he says. Follow me."

The teacher only paused long enough at the door for Danny to get his stuff together and then strode purposefully down the corridor. The boy followed but then hesitated when Lancer turned to the nurse's office, "Honestly, sir, its fine. I don't need to-"

The man didn't suppress an eye roll and propelled the boy into the office.

The nurse sat behind the desk, looking up with a smile, "What is the problem today?"

"This boy seems to have abrasions of some sort on his chest."

"Oh, poor boy, did you fall? Take off that shirt so I can see the problem."

Danny crossed his arms over his chest and glared, "No."

"No?" repeated an affronted Lancer, looking as if Danny had physically attacked him.

Hurriedly, the nurse interjected before the man burst a vein, "Ah…let's calm down shall we? Why don't you tell me your name so I can sign you in?"

Danny merely tightened his arms.

Lancer answered for him, "Daniel Fenton."

"Oh!" the nurse exclaimed, "So you're the one everyone..." she noticed Lancer's eyes widened and cut herself off with a nervous little giggle.

The teacher's eyes narrowed again but then closed them with a sign, visibly giving up. He absently dismissed them with a wave of his hand as he headed out the door.

The nurse, rather pretty in her own right, invaded his personal bubble, nose a bare inch from nose, "Now, Mr. Fenton, I can't help you if you can't help me."

Danny breathed out fogged air. He started then focused on her, eyes narrowed, "Yes, let's help each other. Why don't we start with who are you?"

"Why I am the school nurse! What a question!" she laughed, revealing a full set of pointy teeth.

"Well this is a problem," said Danny in a vaguely threatening tone, "Seeing as how this school hasn't had the money to pay for a nurse in ages, I would like to ask again. Who. Are. You?"

"You know, I could say that Mrs. Smith brought me in so that this school will not be at fault for liabilities anymore," answered the nurse in a calm fashion, "But you are a bright little whippersnapper."

With a flash of light, her disguise dropped, and a familiar figure revealed.

Danny reflexively went ghost and growled, "Spectra."

And END

Wasn't that just swell? Oh dear, poor Dash only had two lines. Don't worry, hopefully more wonderfully awkward situations will arise next chapter!

Love you all! MWAH!