I was supposed to publish this on the 13th but didn't to avoid bad luck. Enjoy, even though it's partially delayed!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom.

Danny ducked into class, eleven minutes late, and slid silently into his seat, the plastic chair only making the smallest of creaks. Lancer took a moment to write "Eleven min" on a scrap of paper, and went back to lecturing the class on Adverbs.

Danny didn't seem to be limping today, but he was holding his left arm at his side. He was wearing a jacket that covered any injuries he might have gotten, and judging from the way he was cradling his arm, there was.

Out of the corner of his eye, Danny pulled out a red notebook and began scrawling notes onto a blank page. From a few seats behind, Dash Baxter took out a straw and started to shoot spitballs at the back of Danny's head. One hit his neck with a dull smack. Danny grabbed the back of his hair and tugged the spitball out, and dropped it on the floor. Baxter shot again, but Danny dodged the volley.

"Mr. Baxter, throw the straw away, if you will," Lancer said calmly, not turning away from the board.

Dash threw the straw, not bothering to stand up. It missed.

The bell had rung, and the usual stampede of students had left, some leaving behind pencils and the like and coming back for them looking sheepish and grabbing what they left.

Lancer shut the door to the classroom silently, not wanting to attract unwanted attention from nosy teacher into his rather private business.

Well, if you call tracking a person's next move "Private Business."

Mr. Lancer, unlike the rumors, loved his students. To him, they were all temporary adopted children for the year, making him laugh and cry and him watching with pride as they advanced throughout the year. His heart shattered every time a student failed an assignment, and it felt like his heart was being ripped out vein by vein when he or she failed a class.

Lancer opened up a Word Document in a personal file and scrolled down to the ninth page. Most of the pages were full of numbers, additional notes, maybe even a long paragraph here or there.

The title of the document was "Fenton Tardies," in case someone went through his computer and found the file. The teacher's wouldn't care about tardies, especially Fenton's.

"4/7/05, was late. Eleven minutes." He typed.

After realizing that Danny would nearly always be late no matter what, he stopped handing him detentions when he saw him walk in limping and sporting a chipped tooth and a swollen eye. Instead he took to trying to track just how late Danny would be.

It was random, always random. Like popping popcorn, Danny could be on time one day to exactly twenty seven and thirty two seconds late to missing an entire class altogether.

But he seemed to work hard. When he rarely turned in assignments, they were always completed, earning him high Bs at the most.

Sometimes when he turned in papers, they would have little spots of brown along the margins and spaces. Once it took up a whole edge of one paper. When questioned, Danny would just shrug. "Probably a ink explosion at the paper factory," he would say. He would say it with a straight face, the ghost of a smile on his lips. If his friend Tucker overheard, he would snort. Sometimes he would continue with "I'm just glad this tiny little sheet survived."

But Lancer wasn't stupid. He knew blood dried brown.

Eighth period English. Lancer's last class of the day, and the only class he had with Danny Fenton.

Seventh period was his off period. He often went to the Nasty Burger to grab a shake and small fries. He never liked the burgers there, they tasted like they had cooked them with rubber. The teenagers could hang out there as much as they wanted; He could just go through the drive through.

He was quite surprised to see Fenton already sitting at his desk, writing more in that notebook of his. The pencil scratched against the paper as Fenton wrote. Back and forth.

"Not late? This is quite different. What's the occasion?" Lancer asked causally, leaning back into the chair.

Danny jumped slightly, eyeing the teacher carefully. "None. I just could get on time today."

"And what of your seventh period?"

"Free." Danny replied. He looked down at his notebook. "I really do like this class. I just can't always make it-"

"Why? You have it free period, why aren't you always here early like this?"

Danny looked taken aback. Lancer looked pointedly at the student. Fenton sighed. "You know how my parents are the ghost dudes?"

Lancer smiled. That was a rather immature way to say that they were the leading ghost experts, as the "Ghost Dudes," but that was beside the point. "The ghost dudes."

"Yeah. The ghost dudes. Well, that makes some of the ghosts mad. They come after me."

Lancer scanned the boy's face for any hint of deception. But the boy continued. "I have to kept them down. They go after my sister sometimes too, but I seem to be more... Attack worthy."

He raised an eyebrow. "So you're always late because you're hunting ghosts?"

"Yes. But some ghosts are alright, you see," Danny explained. "Phantom is one of them. I made a deal with him, he protects my back today and I get to let him use me tomorrow."

"Use you? You mean-"

"Overshadowing. We do it a lot, actually. It gives me a extra boost when I'm fighting ghosts, and him something to humble himself. He's never been to a normal school before, you see." He explained.

Lancer let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. "That's quite a explanation, Mr. Fenton."

"You mean you believe me?"

Lancer looked at the boy. "Yes."

The next day Fenton wasn't himself. He bounced on his heels and walked more cheerfully then a normal person would.

"Reign it in a little, Phantom." Tucker hissed to the overshadowed boy during lunch. Phantom/Fenton was stuffing as much food in his mouth as he could.

"You don't get it guys," The ghost explained. "I haven't eaten in years."

"That's what you said when you ran faster then anybody at the track today. That you haven't ran for felt tiredness in years." Sam pointed out.

"That's because I haven't! I haven't run for fun at least," He went back to munching on his food.

Sam rolled her eyes at the ghost she knew so well. "Well, just tone it down a little. People are looking at you. Danny's a bit more... Silent."

Phantom was licking his fingers.

Phantom was on time today. Lancer caught a glimpse of those trademark toxic green eyes before the overshadowed boy sat down.

Lancer wasn't sure how overshadowing worked. Was Fenton still trapped somewhere inside, aware of every movement? Did his mind prick the back of Phantom's? Or was he asleep? Would he wake up at the end of the day remembering nothing?

Lancer made sure to just have a "Review Day," just in case Fenton wouldn't remember anything the next day.

Confused? Well... Here's my headcannon that I based this story on.

Fenton and Phantom are totally different beings. No Portal accident or anything. The ghosts like to pick on Danny a lot so he became a ghost hunter.

Then he meets Phantom. Phantom didn't attack him or ANYTHING, but instead wanted to help him with the ghosts.

Then he ends up making a deal: If Phantom can keep the ghosts at bay for ONE day, Fenton would let Phantom overshadow him for the next day. Phantom would have a chance for a normal human day.

I guess this could have turned into Pitch Pearl if I let it go longer but I decided not to.

There you go.

Please review!