"Who is zhis?" A rough German voice asked. 

"Jameson Jackson," said the name's owner. "You pulled me aside after that show in June. You said I should call you if I had anything I needed help with."

"Jameson Jackson- Jameson Jackson!" the doctor yelped into the phone, his voice muffled by static. "The newest ego- I nevah expected to meet another person like us! Yes! Vhat can I help you with?"

"I'm... I heard about..." Jameson trailed off and rubbed his eyes nervously. "D-do you know Jacksepticeye?"

The doctor replied quickly. "Yes. I know Jacksepticeye."

"I heard of a plan to kill him," the musician said, matching Henrik's energy with equal trepidation. "Both you and Jack could be in danger."

Then, both men went quiet. Henrik's steady breathing echoed through the receiver. At last, he said, "Ve need to meet in person."

"If..." Jameson paused. He had almost said, If Anti finds out we were talking, he won't be happy. But he realized that Schneeplestein probably didn't know of Anti- or worse, he did. "Okay," Jameson said simply. His voice felt small, timid. "Where and when?"

"Right now," the doctor replied in a low voice. "I'm sending a friend to come and get you. Vhat's your address?"

Jameson let out a squeak of panic. "M-my address? I don't know if- if this is a good idea-"

"Jameson," Henrik said gently. "Please, ve can't talk on the phone. I have to hang up soon before zhis call is traced-"

"Traced!" 

"-so I need to know where you are. You just said yourself that Jack's life could be at risk," he said. "Please, Jameson."

There was a long, tense pause. Jameson could hear his heart beating a mad tempo against his ears, like a prisoner wailing against the walls of his cell. 

"Fifteenth floor of the Astral Apartment Building. Apartment 15A."

"Thank you," the doctor sighed, sounding almost giddy with relief. "Thank you. Be on the roof in five minutes."

And with that, he hung up. 

"...the roof?" Jameson breathed. 

Jameson shouldered open the roof access door with a yelp of fear, which cut off into a strangled noise as he looked out over the city. His apartment building wasn't necessarily tall by London's standards, but he had never realized how high up it really was. And with the sun down and the sky an inky purple, the lights of the city below nearly burned Jameson's eyes.

Jameson fished a pocketwatch from the breast pocket of his vest, which he had donned along with his bow tie and bowler before heading for the stairs. It was always important to look spiffy. By his gauge, his five minutes were nearly up, and Henrik's friend would be arriving soon. 

JJ's overactive imagination kept him on his toes as he clung to the rooftop access door. Who would it be? Would they arrive in a helicopter, or perhaps by zipline? Would JJ recognize them, or would they be a stranger?

"Jameson Jackson!" an assertive, somehow familiar voice called out across the rooftop. Jameson spun on his heel and felt his heart leap in his chest. A silhouette was crouched on the edge of the roof, the tails of his mask trailing in the wind beside his head. He stood, dressed in a red hooded suit with a cape billowing cinematically behind him. 

Jameson was enthralled. "Are you Henrik's friend?" he asked hopefully, though he didn't dare to let go of the door. "You look like... like a vigilante- a superhero!"

The man grinned beneath his mask. "Jackieboy Man, at your service," he said with a tilt of the head. He strode confidently toward Jameson and put out his hand for the performer to shake. "You look like you're in the wrong century. Who are you?"

"Jameson Jackson," replied he, unable to keep from smiling as he shook the hero's hand. "And I do hear that quite a lot."

"Nice to meet you," Jackieboy Man said diplomatically, keeping a firm grip on Jameson's hand. "Now, if you would, follow me!"

Jameson felt his feet skid across the roof as the hero took off running, still holding onto Jameson. Alarm built in the performer's chest- why were they running toward the ledge? Without hesitation, Jackieboy Man vaulted the low wall of the roof- and Jameson's stomach froze. 

Suddenly, they were soaring over the alley between the two buildings, but dropping fast. The floors of the building next door began to pass them as they fell. Jameson squeezed his eyes shut and screamed in horror as the asphalt raced up to meet him-

"Open your eyes, tophat!" Jackieboy Man shouted. 

They were slowing down- Jameson held tight to Jackie's shoulder as they drifted easily toward the ground. Jackie clicked a harness off his chest and dropped the last two feet effortlessly. Jameson's knees buckled as he hit the ground, but they were safe. He stared up as a bungee cord sprung back to its original size some ten stories above. Jackie had dropped off the building, bungee-jumped all the way to the bottom, and then loosed himself from the harness.

"H-how?" Jameson gasped. 

"Lots and lots of practice," Jackie replied, a mischievous glimmer in his eyes. "And lots of broken ankles." Then, Jackie called a ride with his phone while Jameson looked on, somewhere between astonished and disappointed. 

Their car arrived and drove the two of them through the winding streets, until the buildings began to shrink and the roads emptied of cars. It was some time later that they finally stopped outside a squat old business building, with just a few lights on inside. They tipped the driver and climbed out onto the sidewalk. 

Jackie led Jameson up to the door, which swung open aggressively as he reached for the handle. Standing in the threshold was Dr. Henrik Schneeplestein, looking anxious and relieved all at once.  "Ve have much to talk about, yes?"

Jameson gulped. "We sure do."