One-shot. CasperxKat. Kinda angsty, kinda fluffy. Rated T for a few curse words. Yes, I know...it's short-ish. I'm using the US style of quotation marks here (", instead of a single ').
23 June 1996
Early morning sun filtered through Kat's bedroom window. Just as she reached consciousness, she heard the car door slam outside, which could only mean her Dad had left for work, probably out to visit a patient in town. Kat rolled over and glanced at her digital alarm clock, which read five minutes after seven. Kat pulled herself out of bed. "Friday" she muttered, glancing sideways to the wall where her calendar was suspended. "Casper's birthday. So…he's…" she thought, doing some mental math. "He's 103 years old today."
After getting showered and dressed, Kat descended the staircase, and hopped lightly off it. Kat's birthday plans for Casper added the extra spring in her step. As Kat made her way to the kitchen, she was pleasantly surprised that Casper was not up--which was highly unusual--and neither were Casper's ghoulish uncles, also known as The Trio--Kat expected them to not be up yet anyway. Kat smiled and rolled up her sleeves. Today would be the best day of Casper's afterlife.
Several hours later, Kat put the finishing touches on her white frosting baseball-shaped cake. "A little unorthodox--cake for breakfast--but I doubt he cares," she thought. Just as she finished her thought, a torrent of wind rushed through the kitchen. Grabbing the cake, Kat ran out of the kitchen as fast as she could. "What the hell, man! Where the fuck is my breakfast?" shouted Stretch from the kitchen. "Make your own damn breakfast!" Kat retorted in the general direction of the kitchen, and the took off upstairs.
Kat got up to the second level of the manor after much careful treading on the staircase so as not to drop the cake. She went immediately to her room, where Casper usually waited for her. Turning a corner, Kat stopped dead in her tracks. He wasn't there. Kat turned around and went into each room. Still no sign of Casper. She made her way up to the playroom. "If it were my birthday, and I were a ghost, where would I be? In here? No, God, that's a stupid question!" Kat said aloud. "No, it's not," replied a melancholy voice behind her. Kat turned around to face Casper, who's melancholy voice matched his facial expression. "Thanks for the cake, anyway." said Casper, looking at the floor.
"What's the matter? It's your birthday! Don't you wanna go eat some…" Kat trailed off when she saw the expression on the young spectre's face. It was then that Kat saw he was perched on an ornate brass rocking horse. The brass had turned green with rust over time, but bits of the tan metal still shone through the green rust. The horse had red glass eyes and it's mane was at one time painted silver. It was, at least once in its existence, a very handsome toy. "My parents gave this to me on my 11th birthday," said Casper mournfully. "It's beautiful," murmured Kat quietly. There was a short pause. "Then my mom died," he said shortly. Casper looked down, and Kat's gaze followed. Something caught Kat's eye. It was an old newspaper clipping, the parchment yellowed with age. It was on top of several other clippings just like it. The date on the paper was for 26 June, 1904. The headline read, "Local Eccentric J.T. McFadden's Wife Dies In Accident,". The article went on to explain how Mrs. Elizabeth Anna McFadden, nee Gunderson, was killed in a "motor car" accident near Friendship, Maine. Kat placed the article carefully back on the ground with the other pile of dusty papers. "It was around that time that Dad's sanity started to go downhill," remarked Casper. "Naturally, it got even worse when I died,". Kat was surprised. He rarely talked about this. She knew it was a painful subject, and the only time they discussed this was on top of the lighthouse and in the attic. Both of those events had happened about a year ago, and Kat just let the discussion stay where it was.
A pause lingered between them. "Well," Casper started. Kat imagined he would have run a hand through his hair--if he still had any, of course. "Yeah…" Kat replied. "You know what? I feel like getting some of that cake,". Kat looked up. "Me, too," she said brightly. The unusual pair, the lady and the ghost, set off downstairs for some well needed refreshment--and close company.