Author stuff: My last chapter for all of you. I wrap everything up here. It's been a swell ride, my readers. If you ever get bored, feel free to reread or check out my other DP fic Do Not Cross, or any of my other fics.

Remember, if you have any questions specifically about writing this fic or writing mystery stories or anything along those lines, feel free to ask me questions. Or, if there is anything I didn't cover, left open or ambiguous, shoot me a message or review. I will be answering all questions in an extra chapter later this month.

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. All legal rights belong to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon.

The Court of Stripes

by iOc

Epilogue

11 October 2023

"What do you think you're doing?"

The young woman whirled around, a gloved hand pressed against her heart in an attempt to slow down the beating. She pressed her back up against the door to the Hall of Mirrors, but she heaved a sigh of relief when she saw who it was.

"Oh, Mr. Kelly," she said, laughing a little. "You startled me."

"I can see that, Miss Stark," Mr. Kelly said, frowning. "But, what do you think you're doing?"

"I was just…" She trailed off, innocently pointing to the door behind her.

"Miss Stark, I would advise you from going inside." He walked over to her and draped his arm around her shoulders. He led her away from the temporary building. "You see, the place has just been cleaned, and I know you don't want to dirty the floors before the guests arrive. Why don't you go… play with the animals or whatever it is that you do, hm?"

His arm dropped from her shoulders and he walked away. Miss Stark's lips puckered in disappointment, then morphed into a frown. She turned and looked back at the Hall of Mirrors, then back at his retreating back.

"What are you hiding, Mr. Kelly?" she said to herself.

"And… cut!"

A loud buzzer sounded from behind the camera crew. The gaffer lowered his equipment and nodded to the young woman, who pulled off her red-haired wig and smiled.

"That was good work everyone," the director said. "Okay, we meet back up here later tonight to film some of the most vital scenes, so everyone rest up while they can. It might be a long night tonight."

Miss Stark — or the actress who player her, rather — stood off to the side, waiting to receive the attention of the man in charge. He approached her, all smiles and hugs.

"You did great," he said. "As always."

"Thanks," she said, starting to remove the nylon cap that kept her natural hair under the wig.

"No, leave that on. I like you like that."

"Oh ha ha." She removed it in spite of his jests. The braid her hair had been twisted into was wet with sweat and was coming undone. Frowning, she shook her hair out, running her fingers through it to get out any knots. "So, what will we be doing?"

"I was thinking dinner…"

"Can't eat too much. I have a dress to fit into later, Mr. Director."

"You always say that."

"I'm serious! 50s clothes are very specific to the wear and fit. It's not like I can squeeze myself with a corset and call it a day."

"Well…"

"I'm not wearing a corset. Some of the things I'm doing for this film call for a varied range of movement and a corset would only hinder that. Garters are bad enough as it is."

"I love you, too, dear," he said, pulling her into an embrace and pecking her nose.

"Hm, you say that every time when you're trying to get out of trouble," she said. She slid out of his arms and into her trailer, he followed her. "Oh, Danny, I heard from Star this morning. Where is it…? Ah, here! She sent me an email."

She handed him several sheets of paper, stapled together. He smiled at the familiar email address and read the message while she changed out of her costume. It was mostly updates from the circus — everyone was doing fine, Dora and Nicholas (the Fright Knight, Danny eventually learned his name) were finally engaged after convincing Aragon for the last time, he was sorely missed, blah blah blah, yadda yadda yadda, Jazz is pregnant, new acrobats, fire dancers were thinking about retiring…

"Wait," Danny said, "my sister's pregnant? Who's the father?!"

"I emailed Star about that a while ago. She hasn't responded. I think she's performing today. I can't believe she took over as illusionist."

"My big sister's pregnant."

"Yeah, I know. I read the letter."

"Yeah, but… she's my big sister. She's supposed to set the example for me, you know? She's not supposed to get knocked up by some jerk."

"Where's the bra that I wear with this top…?"

"Jazz is the responsible one. What's wrong with her? Does she even know who the father is?"

"I'm positive she knows who the dad is. Where are you, Mr. Lacy-cup?"

"You know what, we're going to have to cancel the rest of the shoot. I have to go see her, talk about adoption and stuff. I'm sure some gay couple out there would like to take in a baby."

"Damn, can't find the bra…"

"Sam, pack you're things. We're going after my sister."

"Danny, I'm positive she's fine," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Where's that dress you like to wear, you know the one will the silver skulls? You look good in that — intimidating too. Hey, maybe you can convince Jazz to put the baby up for adoption!"

"You aren't even listening to a thing I said, are you?"

"Yeah, that will definitely work. I can see it now, Jazz spilling everything and happy that we're helping her."

"You know what, I'm not going to wear a bra today. How does that sound?"

"Perfect! Absolutely perfect! We have the perfect plan."

Sam rolled her eyes and slipped into her street clothes, hanging her costume up and setting aside the undergarments she wore with it. She fixed the wig on the stand and nodded. Everything was in place.

"Danny," she said, "did you even read the rest of the letter?"

"No, why?"

"Just do it."

…courts have finally come to an agreement. Showenhower has been convicted of over one hundred and sixty murders of innocent women. It's still weird to think that because of him, all of this happened…

"They finally decided."

"Yup." She held up various printouts from local papers. "If he wasn't already dead, Wisconsin would be the one to go through with the dirty killing deed."

"That's…"

"Messed up, yeah, but a lot of people want justice, you know? They're all kind of upset that some 20-something-year old circus freak got to him before they did."

"Yeah…"

"So, is it worth the wait?" she said.

He sighed and read over the letter again — completely ignoring the part about his sister's pregnancy. He picked up his backpack, a ratty looking thing, and pulled out a notebook decorated with magazine cutouts. "A Circus to Die For" was written in black sharpie. He tucked the email and the printouts between the cover and the handwritten text inside. He turned, looked at her, and asked:

"You tell me."

Fin.

Author stuff cont'd: This was a crazy chapter. This was the second chapter actually finished writing very early on, but had to be revised when something important changed with Freakshow — hint, he lived.

To my guest reviewer, whoever you are, I will be answering some of your questions in a few days. I wish I knew who you were so I could answer them personally.

I can't wait to see what my dear readers think. I hope you all enjoyed this crazy ride.

Adieu.