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Danny should’ve known his Fenton luck was going to bite him in the metaphorical ass. Or, well in this case, hit him upside the head when he wasn’t paying attention.
The past few days felt like a dream, way too good to be true. As soon as he landed (in a jet?!) on the aircraft carrier (The Stratt Vat as everyone but Stratt called it) in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, he was greeted by the absolutely coolest person yet (he could not let Pandora know).
Olesya Ilyukhina was full of energy and never lost her spark despite how absolutely exhausted they’ve been on fixing the proto-types Danny (which, hole-y swiss cheese and crackers) had proposed in a never intended to be published paper. She of course was judging him hard as he tore apart a toaster.
“What’d the toaster do this time?” Ilyukhina asked as she slid into the stool across from him and placed a to-go cup full of espresso beside him. Ancients, she was the best.
“It makes toast.” Danny quipped, fighting off a yawn. He picked up the to-go cup and downed the 13 shots of espresso without so much of a flinch. “Thanks.”
“How has your heart not stopped?”
“Oh, it has,” he grinned, gesturing with the Philips screwdriver in hand, “I’ve lost count how many times I’ve legally died over the years.”
“Still not the most concerning thing you’ve said in the past,” she checked her watch, “two hours.”
He opened his mouth to say another very normal out of pocket thing when he heard it. It was a slight whistling sound as people screamed and yelled in surprise.
Oh.
Oh no.
“Duck!” He yelped, staring wide eyed at Ilyukhina just as the bane of his goddamn afterlife smacked him squarely in the forehead.
The booo-merang fell to the table in a clatter. He rubbed his forehead as Ilyukhina slowly came up from where she dove off her stool. “What?” She muttered in Russian just as Danny groaned loudly. “Are you okay?!”
“Fine,” he winced, “not the first time and I doubt it’ll be the last. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an angry sister to go quell.” He said, sliding off his seat, and ran into the hallway following the path of mass destruction the booo-merang had caused.
Ilykuhina ran into the hallway. “Fenton! What do you mean?!”
“Stay there! I’ll be back!” He called behind him, leaping over someone attempting to get up off the ground. “Sorry!” He fought the urge to fly through tons of steel as he took the stairs three at a time. Too many people around to go ghost. He slid to a halt at the closest exit and sucked in a breath.
He could see the crowd of security circling someone dressed in a silver suit as many other workers hid in fear. Beyond them, the Specter Speeder 4.0 hovered right where his sister parked it.
It was endearing how far his older sister would go for him, time and again she’s proven how protective and willing to go up to bat with the creep stick for him. But this… This was so embarrassing. Danny dragged his hand down his face before gearing up to defuse the tension.
He plastered a smile on his face and walked into the fray like nothing was wrong. It was funny how several people attempted to stop him from going out the door. Sweet too, but yeah, no. He wasn’t going to let the hard working security team be subjected to his sister.
“Jazz! Hey!” He called as he walked onto the flight deck. Several heads turned towards him, including his sister in question.
“DANNY!!!” She yelled, “THERE YOU ARE I’M HERE TO-!”
Yep. Maybe he should’ve worded the sticky note better.
Add two smiley faces next time.
“I’M FINE JAZZ! YOU CAN POWER DOWN THE PEELER!” He yelled, cupping his hands so at least she could hear him over the winds.
He watched as she put her hands on her hips. Oh, he was in loads of trouble. “YOU WROTE THAT YOU WERE-!”
“JAZZ PLEASE!”
He could feel the eyeroll from under the visor.
“Mr. Fenton,” the last voice he truly wanted to hear right now said behind him, “is it fair to assume you know the… disruption?” Stratt asked, holding two to-go cups of coffee and an extremely done expression on her face.
Oh, he was so toast and he hadn’t even finished demolishing the toaster either.
“That’s my uh… my sister,” Danny admitted, ducking his head as he rubbed the back of his neck.
She raised a brow as she glanced at the security team. “STAND DOWN! THAT’S AN ORDER!”
He could hear a ripple of protests, but one icy glare shut most of them up. The security team lowered their guns. Only then did Jazz power down the Fenton Peeler.
She hadn’t grown much since high school while he shot up like a tree during senior year when he finally found a rhythm between saving his grades and scheduling ghost fights with his usual rogue gallery. It’d been, not necessarily too long since the last time they’ve seen each other, but it was still always weird to see streaks of gray in her orange hair. Even worse when he dared to look in the mirror to see his own black slowly being consumed by the ghostly white of his other half. Dyeing it never lasted more than a couple hours. At least it… looked okay and he could sorta hide it if he wanted to be one of those dads and wear sunglasses at the back of his head. No thanks.
Jazz was wearing a black sweater with a teal brain cell pattern. The one he gifted her for Christmas after cashing in a favor from one of Queen Dorathea’s court. Oh, now he felt like an asshole.
Jazz marched up to him, grabbed him by the ear and yanked him down to her level. He went willingly. “Daniel James Fenton,” she said cooly, “why in the Carmen Sandiego are you in the middle of the Pacific Ocean?”
“You know we’re not in Amity." He said, trying to put on an easy smile, but at Jazz’s narrowed eyes he cleared his throat. “Soooooooo, funny story—“ She yanked on his ear a little more. “Ow! Jaaaaazz you’re embarrassing me.” He hissed.
“Good.” She hissed back.
Stratt took that moment to sigh, drawing the siblings' attention to her. “As cute as this reunion may be,” she said, oozing with sarcasm, “can we move this to the conference room?”
Jazz’s brow scrunched as she glanced at the other woman. She opened her mouth to possibly make a sassy retort when Danny immediately covered her mouth with his hand.
“Sure thing boss,” he grinned, trying desperately not to sweat as Jazz glanced at him with a raised brow.
Stratt nodded. “Meet me there in five.” She glanced behind them, “And please ground your vehicle while you're at it.”
Ah, yep, she recognized the Specter Speeder. She seemed… impressed? Was he seeing things or did she seem impressed?
“If the Speeder is grounded then there are a lot more problems we’d need to worry about.” Jazz said, cryptidly as she shoved Danny’s hand away with her own free one.
“Ah, yeah, she’s right.” Danny said, trying to stand up straight, but Jazz’s fingers were strong. He winced a little. “If the filters get blocked-”
Stratt looked over her shoulder at him. “Then park it with the jets.”
Danny raised his hand in salute as Stratt turned and walked into the carrier. He glanced at Jazz. “You can let go now.”
Jazz stared into his eyes before releasing her pinch. He winced as he rubbed his ear. “A sticky note! Seriously?!”
He sighed. Oh, this was going to be a long five minutes. “I’m sorry.”
She leaned up and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you’re okay baby brother. Now I’m driving-”
He was already jogging to the Speeder. “Dibs on driving!”
“Wh-DANNY!”
Stratt was waiting for them at the end of a long table. She was down one of her to-go cups. There was a laptop and papers in front of her as she typed and sipped her remaining cup. “Took you long enough.” She said, glancing at them as Danny and Jazz entered the conference room.
Danny rubbed the back of his neck. “One of the pilots wasn’t too thrilled about having another uh, vehicle in his way and demanded we’d park elsewhere.”
Stratt raised a brow. “Sit.”
Danny dragged out a chair for his sister and himself before plopping down in his seat. He opened his mouth to speak when Stratt held up the Booo-merang with a cloth covering her fingers. Ah. Massive trouble it is then.
“What is this?” She asked, “And why did it nearly take out twenty individuals before ending up in your workshop?”
Jazz’s nail scratched near her teal headband. “That would be from me.”
Stratt turned to her. “Oh? Is that right Miss-“
“Doctor.” Jazz immediately corrected, “Dr. Jasmine Fenton, I’m, uh, a psychologist.”
Stratt glanced at her laptop screen and nodded. “Dr. Fenton,” she amended, “so, why is a psychologist threatening my aircraft carrier, and how did she find it in the first place?”
“That’s the booo-merang,” Danny said, speaking up, “it uh, is locked on my ect-sig-signature.” He coughed, nearly slipping up. Stratt eyed him. Oh, please don’t tell him she caught that.
“It’s been able to tell me where Danny is since we were in high school.” Jazz said smoothly, stepping in like she always did to cover his butt with any adult with authority. “He’s been… kidnapped a few times over the decades and it has come in handy for locating him.”
“Kidnapped?” Stratt asked, glancing at Danny.
Danny opened his mouth to quip, to ease the tension slowly smothering the room, when a loud thud behind him made all three of them turn towards the door.
A tall, blond man wearing glasses and a black science pun t-shirt (Ah! The element of surprise!) quickly righted himself and snacked the floating papers out of the air. “Uh,” his glasses were askew on his face as he opened the door and leaned his head inside, “So, Stratt I heard some crazy—” he blinked, glancing between Danny and Jazz before settling on Stratt, “You’re in a meeting.”
Stratt was pinching the bridge of her nose muttering something about not wanting “them to meet” before taking a slow deep breath. “Yes, Dr. Grace.” She said, exasperated. “Dr. Ryland Grace, this is Mr. Daniel and Dr. Jasmine Fenton.”
“Danny.” “Jazz.” The siblings corrected at the same time, both waving half hearted waves at Dr. Grace.
“In any case,” Stratt cut in before any of them could derail the conversation any further, “the disruption on the flight deck is currently being handled.”
Jazz raised her hands. “It wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you had left a better note!”
Yep. This was gonna be their new argument. “But I left a smiley face and everything!”
Jazz folded her arms across her chest. “You wrote and I quote: kidnapped by the government."
“Willingly!”
Dr. Grace laughed. “Oh, hey me too.”
Danny gestured at Dr. Grace. “See! He understands!”
“But he didn’t leave his sister only a sticky note-”
“Enough.” Stratt stood and pointed to the door, “Grace. Come back in about ten minutes. Bring me another coffee too.”
“Sure,” Grace said with an easy smile that Danny recognized. Ancients. Is that how Danny looked when he was trying to seem chill? “Too bad we can’t inject it into our veins right?” He laughed as he backed out the door, “Oh, and uh… have you seen the toaster or-“ his mouth clicked shut as he scurried out of the room.
Danny dared a glance back at Stratt and ope, yep, there was that signature cold stare again. She took a long, deep breath and slowly breathed out as she sat down in her chair.
“Are you two done acting like children?” She asked, clasping her hands on the table.
“Yes, Ma’am.” “Yes, boss.” They said at the same time.
“Good.” She turned towards Jazz, “I have two options for you, one involves your immediate dismissal and banning you to ever see your brother again, the other, a job.”
Jazz opened and closed her mouth. “A… job.”
Stratt nodded. “Yes. You may have disrupted precious time, and injured many others, but not many people can use their wits to find a loved one in the middle of the ocean and promptly make an entire military force quake in their boots.”
Jazz smirked. “They would’ve been fiiiiine. I didn’t have the creep stick on me!” She said, like a liar as she clasped her hands against her knee.
Danny grimaced. “No, but you have it stashed in the Speeder—Ow!”
She kicked him!
Jazz batted her lashes and gave her pretty little smile that always melted and distracted their parent’s hearts. “Didn’t have it on me.”
Ugh. Barf.
Stratt took a moment to stare at the ceiling, probably mentally praying to whatever god she believed in to give her strength. “No matter your choice, you will have to sign a stack of NDA’s.”
“Done.” Jazz said quickly, “If it means I can keep an eye on my baby brother so be it.”
Danny sat up. “Wait, wait, Jazz, but your clients—You can’t just drop everything because-“
Jazz slowly turned to him. “Of you? Yes. I. Can. Somebody has to make sure you’re eating and sleeping. And who even knows how stir crazy everyone is on this ship!” She threw her hands up for emphasis, “Disrupted sleep cycles, chronic fatigue, severe isolation.” She began counting off her fingers, “Mal de Débarquement Syndrome—”
“Okay, okay, okay.” He ran his hands down his face, “But… are you sure? I mean, Mom and Dad—”
“Are still busy chasing after ghosts.” Jazz reminded him, “Did they even know you were in town visiting?”
Danny’s lips thinned.
“Some things never change.” She said quietly before glancing back to Stratt, “I’ll take up the job. I’m assuming your people will send out a notice to my clients? Or would it be possible if I kept up their appointments remotely?”
“Ideally,” Stratt glanced at her laptop screen, “we’d have you sever all ties to anything unrelated to life outside of the boat. We’re on a short time frame that is ever ticking. I will allow you to wrap up your clientele and give you some suggestions for their replacement until this is all over. You will be compensated.”
Jazz held out her hand and to Danny’s surprise, Stratt met it.
“Deal.”
Stratt nodded as she turned her attention back to Danny. “How’s your proto-type coming along? Still playing with the kitchen appliances?”
Danny felt his cheeks warm. “Ilyukhina told you, didn't she?”
And for the first time since Danny’s seen her, Stratt gave him a small smile. “Yes, she did indeed.”
Danny blew out a breath he wasn’t holding. “I’m used to uh… scrounging parts from junkyards and appliances. It’s what our, uh, parents did for their inventions.”
Jazz rolled her eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t cannibalize the microwave, again.”
Danny coughed. “No, no, just the uh, the toaster.”
“Danny!”
“What? The heating coils—”
Jazz raised her hands and started walking away. “I don’t want to know.”
Danny turned towards Stratt who was typing quickly on her laptop. She glanced at him. “Anything else?” As she was met with silence, she waved him away. “Go. Finish that proto-type. Dr. Grace solved our limited astrophage issue, but you won’t be seeing any of it until that proto-type is ready for testing.”
Danny nodded and made his way out of the conference room.
He stopped at the door and looked back. “Thank you, by the way.”
She stopped typing and looked up at him, puzzled. “For what?”
“For giving us… my sister and I, a chance.”
Stratt broke the eye contact first. The keys on her keyboard clicked loudly in his ears. “You two… surprise me.” She admitted, her eyes still glued to her screen. “I’ve seen the article about the purpleback gorillas.” She stopped typing and met his eyes again, “You’re not the only one around here that pays attention Mr. Fenton.”
Danny blinked. That was over half his life ago. “I-” whatever he was going to say died on his tongue as Dr. Grace nearly ran into the door again. Nearly, because Danny pulled him back last second as loose papers fell to the ground.
Dr. Grace and Danny blinked at each other. “What?” Dr. Grace stared down at his empty hands then up at Danny because Danny’s left hand was placed squarely on Dr. Grace’s back, while his right hand balanced the two to-go cups on top of each other without spilling anything.
Well… except the papers.
Apparently, both of their brains were buffering as to what the fudge just happened because Stratt decided they needed a hard restart as she rescued the coffee from Danny’s hand. “Don’t you two have places to be?” She asked, glancing at the coffees and took a sip of one.
Dr. Grace moved his glasses from his chin to the top of his head. “Oh, yep. Uh. Thanks.” He said, finally righting himself.
Danny nodded slowly, mentally kicking himself for his quick reflexes. Stratt saw it all. Oh, ancients he was deader than he already was… “Yep.” He said, straining a signature easy smile, “uh, should, uh, probably stop trying to fight doors.”
Dr. Grace frowned at him puzzled. “Stop fighting-”
“Because you keep running into them.”
“Oh,” Dr. Grace snorted as he scratched the back of his head, “yep, I was uh, trying to think of an equation—“
“Grace. Fenton.” Stratt cut in, staring deadpan at the both of them as she nursed one of the coffees.
Danny finger gunned both of them. “Right, yep, proto-type. Good luck with the coffee.”
“Mm,” Stratt hummed, “and if you need parts, ask for them instead of tearing apart the appliances. Thank you.”
Danny paused halfway up the stairs, where he knew they couldn’t see him as he smacked himself across the face. Good, going Fenton! Now, she’s suspicious of you!
Jazz stared down at him as he rounded the corner on the staircase. “Ah, hey Jazz, sorry for like… dragging you into this, but—“
She took the stairs down until she was eye level with him. “Are you happy?”
He blinked. “What?”
“Are you happy?” She asked again, placing both her hands on his shoulders and looking him in the eyes, “You seem tired, but not in the freshman, just barely surviving each day, everything is trying to kill me tired.” She leaned a little closer, searching his eyes, “It feels more, you’re working out a puzzle that you’re on the brink of cracking tired. The tired I haven’t seen in a long time.”
Danny felt his shoulders sag a little under her protective weight. “Yeah…” he smiled at her, “that tired.”
“You wanna…” she squeezed his shoulders as she let her hands drop to her side, “do a little Bearberting?”
He chuckled. “Sure, I’ll show you to the work room. Maybe even introduce you to the coolest person on this boat too while I’m at it.”