"What'd ya mean by that?" Dash whipped around to stare at the ghost. It was a strange kind of wide-eyed glare, and all together too funny for the drunken fifteen year old in his lap right then. He almost fell to the floor laughing, but Dash's arms kept him in place. "I don't know what your big problem with me, seriously I can't recall a thing I could have done-"
"You were just making out with him with your pants down!" Danny cried, completely frustrated.
"Which is seriously none of your business!" snapped Dash. The human Danny had developed a dopey look, snuggling against Dash's chest with a grin and clinging to the muscular arms that had tried to keep him from falling on his ass, effectively trapping Dash in a forced embrace.
"None of my business? I think even a complete idiot like you could register that it obviously must be my business!"
"Why? Because you're his dead twin? Honestly dude, I don't believe it. Sure you look alike, but the background story just popped up way too far into the movie 'kay?" Dash tried to yank one of his captured arms away from Danny and move him to a less intimate distance, whatever lucidity the teen had managed during his argument had fled him near completely, and so Dash was stuck playing tug of war with his own appendages.
"What? What are you talking about, what movie? You know what? Never mind," he stepped forward and grabbed one of his alters arms, "you're coming home, now, and pray to god that Mom and Dad aren't still awake when we get there."
And so the argument comes to an end.
Hmm, tug of war or should Danny pitch a drunken fit equivalent to that of a five year old? I say all this strenuous activity has made the alcohol run through Danny's system quicker, or my grasp of their characters here has slipped even further into the black hole that is fanservice-fanfiction.
Off to Photo Opportunities, where they act at least a fraction more like their real selves…
I may update The Most Haunted Story In History again this weekend.