I'm BAAAAACCCCKKKK! Whoo! I actually got home in November, but I've been relaxing, catching up on things, etc. This is a really short chapter, sorry, but I need to work on getting back into my characterizations and such. Despite that, I wanted to upload something to let you all know that I'M ALIVE!

If you wondered what I was up to, I was serving as a full-time missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in Japan. It was a fabulous experience and I'm glad I had the chance to serve! Being a full-time volunteer for 18 months was awesome! I thank any readers who return to my stories, even after such a long time! It's been nearly two years since I updated, huh? Wow!

Anyway, enjoy this short bit! (I promise I will eventually get back into swing with regular updates...I just need to work back into it and remember everywhere I was going with things...but I will try to update at least once a week...SOMETHING that I have!)

Chapter#11: A Short Chat

"So...Danny," they walk along the trail, Cujo hopping between their legs, "How did you come to make Phantom's acquaintance?"

"He helped me out once," he smiles.

"...does it have to do with when you were missing?"

The silence is sharp, and she takes a deep breath.

"I apologize. I heard from Valerie. I assumed it might have to do with that time…"

"That's correct," he nods finally, "I hope you will understand my reluctance to speak of it. I...I nearly died."

"I'm curious, but I understand your reluctance. If someone asked me to describe my married life, I would be...I wouldn't share with many," she whispers.

"I assume you confided in Ms. Grey?"

She nods.

"As I confided in Tuck. We all need someone to rely on, I suppose."

"Phantom has also been a great help," she smiles, "His advice seems to be doing wonders. I feel a little lighter every day."

"Clearing out miasma will do that," he laughs, "You haven't seen him around lately, correct?"

"No," she shakes her head, "Hardly at all."

"Good."

The manor comes into sight, and she represses a reflexive shudder.

"...I must ask, Danny...doesn't it bother you?"

"Doesn't what bother me?"

"Knowing what I did," she whispers.

He thinks for a moment, "You did the only thing you could do," he replies softly, "In my opinion. Besides," his voice falls, becoming almost inaudible, "it would make me a bit of a hypocrite, would it not?"

She tries not to stare, but it's difficult. Daniel Fenton, a killer? It's hard to imagine, until she recalls the scene a few moments before, his eyes icy and his grip on his dagger white-knuckled.

"The only reason I didn't die is because I destroyed someone before he could kill me," he whispers hoarsely, "So no, it doesn't bother me," he laughs lightly, "Perhaps I'm an awful person, but I feel everyone is better off without the good Baron," he stops at her doorstep, meeting her eyes, "...does it bother you, Miss Manson? Knowing what I did?"

"No," her lips curl gently, "No, it doesn't."

He matches her smile, and she can see relief flood his eyes, "Have a good night, Miss Manson. Remember to lock the doors, what with the burglaries happening as of late. Cujo should provide additional protection. Sleep well," he doffs his hat and turns to stroll back down the hill.

"Danny!" she calls before he's too far, "...Thank you."

"Not a problem," he smiles, "...And thank you."