Disclaimer: Nickelodeon, Butch Hartman, and etc. own Danny Phantom. I am not Nickelodeon, Butch Hartman, or etc.; therefore, I do not own Danny Phantom. (I hope Nickelodeon gets their act together and decides not to cancel DP, though!) Used without permission. No profit is being made off of this work of fanfiction.
Ivory Paradox
by misaoshiru
Blackness. It is as though she has been swallowed up into an inky void, yet...not. To her, it is almost like someone's thrown a giant sheet of velvet fabric over the world, somehow beautiful yet undeniably suffocating. And she is alone, more alone than she's ever been, until a voice rings out from somewhere behind her. "Valerie," it says calmly. The voice is fairly low but still unmistakably female, and it is familiar to her, in a way she cannot place.
"Wh-who are you?" Valerie asks almost frantically, her eyes searching for the person speaking to her, to no avail.
"I wish I could answer that," the voice says, "but I don't have time. Tell me, child…how do you feel about Danny Fenton?
"Danny?" Valerie blushes. "Umm…why do you want to know that?"
"It's not that I want to know. It's that you need to think about it."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll have to find the answers yourself."
Valerie doesn't say anything, staring down at the silhouette of her feet, all she can see in the darkness. "Well," she finally says, "he's really nice, and unlike any other guy I've ever met. I really like him, and I'd go out with him, but…"
"But what, Valerie?"
"I can't. I don't want to get him involved in my screwed up life."
"His life probably isn't a bowl of cherries either."
"A bowl of cherries? What an old-fashioned metaphor!"
"Maybe I'm old-fashioned, but at least I see you've been paying attention in your English class." The voice sounds amused.
Valerie smiles guiltily. "Finals were last week, and I don't need summer school on top of everything else."
"True. But think about it. Danny's parents are professional ghost hunters, right?"
"Yeah, and his sister is a professional basket case. What of them?"
"Well, with family like that, his life can't really be all that more normal than yours, can it?"
"I guess. But mine's more dangerous."
"Perhaps." The voice is silent for a few moments. Valerie thinks maybe the speaker had left, until she says, "And what of the other Danny?"
"The other Danny?" Valerie blinks.
"The ghost. Phantom."
The teenager scowls. "I hate him," she practically growled. "He's a nuisance, and…and…!"
"And?"
"And he tried to kill me, that one time! You know, when my suit was acting all weird!"
"Maybe. Lucky it wasn't you in there, huh."
"Well, yeah."
"What if he knew it wasn't?"
"He didn't! He wanted to kill me!"
"How do you know?"
"…He hurt me, after he stole those rockets! He blasted my side, dammit! If that isn't evidence he was trying to kill me, I don't know what is!"
"Those were separate instances, were they not?"
"So what?"
"Just think about it, okay? I have to go now…"
"What was that all about?" Valerie thinks before hearing a loud noise, the black fading around her fading to gray.
The girl blinks, staring at the rolled up Geology Today magazine that had just slammed against her desk right in front of her head. "Glad you're with us again, Miss Gray," the teacher says, sarcasm in his voice.
Great. She fell asleep in science class. She had been up too late hunting ghosts after all, it appears. It is all Phantom's fault, as always. So that strange discussion had all been a dream. That explains some things. Still…it was one weird dream, up there with the nightmare that the world was turning to Parmesan cheese. (She'd hated spaghetti ever since.) It could have been worse. She could have drifted off in English or history. She's good enough at science that dozing a little probably won't do too much permanent damage to her grade. This much is in her favor.
The teacher stalks off to the other side of the room, repeating the slamming-magazine wakeup routine for someone else. Valerie grins wryly. It appears Danny had about as much sleep last night as she did. 'Guess this means I won't be alone in detention.'
"Miss Grey, I am very disappointed in you." Mr. Lancer says, peering at her over his copy of Master and Commander by Patrick O'Brian. "Mr. Fenton I expected in detention, but you?" Danny glares at Lancer as he says that, but he is for the most part ignored. "Although your grades have been slipping of late, I would think you at least would have the self control to avoid falling asleep in class."
"I was tired," Valerie responds in a semi-defiant tone. "It won't happen again, Mr. Lancer." But it might. She knows that. She cannot stop fighting ghosts, even if her life depends on it. Which it well might. It's her responsibility now. To give up would be cowardice, and Valerie Grey is no coward.
"Regardless," Mr. Lancer says, "you seem to be in serious need of guidance, considering your recent behavior. I'm going to release you early, but you are to report directly to our new school counselor, Miss Lawrence."
"Sorry to interrupt, but are you sure we can trust her?" Danny speaks up. "I mean, after that mess with Spectra…"
"Miss Lawrence is different, Mr. Fenton. And I wouldn't worry about it if I were you. We still have the matter of your punishment."
Danny scowls and slumps across his desk. Though Valerie doesn't show it, she too is a bit nervous about the new counselor. Still, no one could be as bad as Spectra, right? And it is probably better than sticking around for detention… "Thanks, Mr. Lancer," she says as she leaves the room. "Bye."
Valerie was wrong. Miss Lawrence is easily as bad. Worse, if possible.
"Valerie, you seem to be a very emotional person, but you keep your feelings hidden," the infuriating woman says. "There's no need to be so guarded. You need to express yourself before you explode, and I know the perfect solution: creative writing!"
She groans. Sure, at least Miss Lawrence isn't manipulating her emotions like Spectra did, but... 'What a quack,' she thinks, glowering at the counselor. The woman ignores this, pushing a book towards Valerie.
She stares, first at the paper and then at the counselor. The book is a journal, its paper ordinary stationery for the most part, though it is purple-tinted and smells faintly of lilac. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"It will be your new writing journal. Whenever you feel an emotion, this is a sanctuary where you can express it through poetry or stories. Your choice. It will be fully private, of course. You don't have to show anything you write to me or anyone else unless you want to."
"And what if I don't want to write in this silly journal of yours?"
"Outside our sessions, that is your choice. I cannot force you to do anything that you don't want to, and it's not like I'm grading you. However, I think it will provide good stress relief, which you need."
"How do you know what it is I need? Isn't that my business?"
"I was just making a guess. Now, why don't we do a quick writing exercise? This one will be very simple, to get you thinking creatively. Write me a haiku expressing any emotion you've felt today. You are familiar with that format, yes?"
"Yeah, but do I have to?"
"As soon as you're done, you can go."
"Fine." The only reason she agrees is she figures the sooner she gets out of there, the better. It doesn't take much thought before she knows what to write. Pencil racing across the paper, she shoves the book towards Miss Lawrence. "How's that?" she asks, a wicked grin on her face.
" 'Wrinkled skin and dry hair, long fingers like twigs on a branch, a witch or a hag?' Not bad for your first try, although the second line has one syllable too many."
Valerie twitches. Either the hated counselor didn't notice the implied insult or is ignoring it. "Well, I'm going now. Bye, Miss Lawrence!"
"Be sure to come back here for our next session next week!"
Valerie groans; another session? 'Joy. The witch that wouldn't melt.'
When Valerie arrives home, she almost does a victory dance. Her dad isn't home yet, meaning she gets to get the mail. Plus, there's a package there for her. Even though she fell asleep in class and had to see the stupid school shrink, this day isn't turning out to be so bad after all. Better yet, the package is from Vlad Masters, the man who…sponsors her ghost hunting. She eagerly opens it. There is a note inside, atop a mass of bubble wrap guarding something. Barely managing to control her impatience to see what her benefactor has sent her this time, she unfolds the paper and begins to read.
"Dear Miss Valerie Grey," it says in formal handwriting. "I heard about what happened to your old battle suit and am dreadfully sorry. However, I have also heard rumor that you have obtained a new, more powerful one, and I am sure that this softens the blow somewhat. Even so, I have sent you a small gift to show you how sorry I feel for your loss. Sincerely, Vlad Masters."
"He makes it sound like someone's died." For a moment, Valerie can barely keep from laughing. Then, she remembers the present and pulls away the bubble wrap, squealing with glee when she sees what it was hiding. "Oh my gosh! A brand new Ghost Positioning Device! This version isn't even on the market yet!" She practically jumps up and down in ecstasy, making a mental note to give Vlad her heartfelt thanks at some point. "Now to put this baby to use!"
It doesn't take much work to wire the GPD to her new battle suit. The suit, which basically has an unlimited power source from when she was zapped by the computer, easily powers the device by itself, and the device's design is streamlined, to the point where it disappears along with the suit when not in use. She presses the "on" button, an inconspicuous red spot on her right arm, and a grid appears, with little, moving green dots strewn about, and a single red one, her. One of the green dots is approaching her right now, actually. Right on cue...
"I am the Box Ghost, controller of corrugated cardboard cubes! Surrender the bubble wrap, or...!"
"I don't have time for this!" Valerie practically screams, blasting the Box Ghost's not-so-little blue butt.
"On second thought, maybe I'll settle for a few ordinary boxes... Beware!" He disappears through the ceiling. Valerie sighs, resigning her self to another goose chase with the stupid ghost. Quickly writing a note for her dad, she too disappears, on her jet sled.
It doesn't take too long to find the Box Ghost, since the ghosts seem to be color-coded on the display. The weaker ghosts are shades of blue-green, while the stronger are neon. Naturally, the Box Ghost was practically blue. "Can we please get this over with?" Valerie practically sighs. "There are stronger ghosts around that I need to take care of!"
"Beware!" is his only response, much to her annoyance. They are in a warehouse, surrounded by boxes filled with various canned goods. These boxes float upwards under the ghost's control and dive bomb Valerie, but she sends out a few energy blasts, easily deflecting them. Still, the distraction is enough for her not to notice on the display a second ghost approaching, this one a much brighter shade. That is, until the ghost dives through the ceiling and attacks her opponent.
She growls. "What the hell are you doing here, ghost boy?"
"I could ask you the same question, but I have a feeling we're here for the same reason," he says, floating above the Box Ghost and blasting him again. Valerie fires at Danny, but he easily dodges. "I know you won't listen to me, but I really don't want to fight you."
Valerie glares at him. "What's your deal, anyway? You hold back all the time, and just when I want the most for you to fight me with your all, you destroy my old battle suit like it's nothing, then come at me saying you don't want to fight!"
"So wait: do you want me to hold back or not?"
The Box Ghost watches the exchange, trying to decide whether to stick around while the other two fought. The power given by all those boxes was tempting, but a loose shot from Valerie convinces him it is in his best interest to find the ultimate box-shaped power elsewhere.
"I don't get you, ghost boy!" Valerie yells, preparing to blast him. She stops when she sees the intense look of sadness he is giving her.
"I know," he says softly, "and I wish I could make you, and everyone else, understand me. But it wouldn't work. It's sad, but that's how life is, at least for me." He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
"...Go away," she says. Seeing his expression change to one of confusion, she adds, "Don't you get it? I'm letting you go, this time. Leave before I change my mind."
Danny stares at her incredulously, eventually saying, "Thanks, I think." Then, he goes intangible, leaving Valerie to her thoughts.
It is the first day in nearly a week that Valerie arrives home before curfew, but it is a hollow victory. She immediately heads to her room without saying more than four words to her father, sitting on her bed and staring out the window. 'Why did I do that?' she wonders. 'Am I growing weak, or weak to the head? I know what he's capable of. What if this is a trap?'
A little voice in the back of her mind (her conscience, perhaps?) asks, 'What if it isn't? What if he's really that sad?'
She sighs, laying down and pulling out that stupid journal that Miss Lawrence had given her. 'Well, I don't really have anything better to do.' So she writes another haiku:
"I hate that ghost boy,
Whether he's flying, fighting...
Why are his eyes sad?"
As much as Valerie hates to admit it, maybe the old witch was right. Maybe this can be of some use after all...
End?
Author's Notes:
Well, there it is. My first attempt at DannyxValerie. I'm really more of a DxS fan, to be honest, but I like both, and especially the triangle. Maybe I'm just weird... XD I don't know whether I'll continue this, and it'll probably be a while before I even can. I've already got a lot of projects. I'd like to take it the rest of the way from "Flirting to Disaster" to the beginning of my other fic, "Chosen", but we'll see. (I'll be more likely to do so if you review, though!)
Jeez, present tense is hard. And...I should probably note that this was partially influenced by Wings of Morphius' "Erato's Abode", though her poetry is much better than mine. (And sorry if I spelled Valerie's last name right. Nick(dot)com wouldn't load, andI didn't know if it was the British spelling or the English one, so I just picked one. XD Forgive me.)