Okay, I have come to the end of this story in my list of Danny Phantom Slash Stories. I so appreciated the reviews everyone gave me, and I'd like to take a moment to thank my biggest reviewers:

Hottiegally: To answer your last question, I do this all in one day because I have no life, lolz. And no, no lap-dances. Wait until the next story. *perverted grin*.
The 13th Unlucky Jinx: Glad I still have it in me to invoke emotions! And the list of the DP-Slashes is in my profile, just so you know what and when to look for it!
PsychoticNari: Much love for your enthusiasm!
xXxMartelxXx: Thanks SO much for your reviews!

And now, on with the epilogue!

School had started up again, and Danny had been too busy to properly write his poem on 'Death'.

For the rest of the Christmas holidays, he had spent most of that time with Ghostwriter, most often in the library; but every once and awhile, he managed to drag the 'Writer out of solitude so they could go on 'dates', in a manner of speaking. Sure, the first real date was at a cafe/bookstore, but it was a start.

Danny had introduced the 'Writer to Sam and Tucker, who greeted the 'Writer with enthusiasm and friendliness, much to the novelist's surprise. They spent some time hanging out, then as Danny and Tucker were talking about catching a movie, Sam pulled the Ghostwriter aside and pretty much told him what Jazz had-if he hurt Danny, she would kill him again. And this girl was just as scary as the sister.

The parents had invited him over for dinner twice before the holidays ended, and Ghostwriter took both invites, determined to make the best impression he could. The second time he came over, he experienced the fudge that the ghosts at the Christmas party had been raving about. Danny made without a doubt, the best fudge he had ever had, alive or dead. He almost got into a squabble with Jack Fenton over the last square, but Jazz quickly interviened by snatching it up instead. After that, Jack said that anyone who loved fudge as much as he did COULDNT be evil, and for some reason, Ghostwriter knew that he had been accepted.

Still, Danny kept the 'boyfriend' part under wraps from his parents for the time being; he wanted his parents and Ghostwriter to be completely familiar with each other and on completely friendly terms before pulling that surprise from the closet, so to speak.

But he was fine with that.

Three days before the poem was due, Danny was in Ghostwriter's library with "Finding the Inspiration Within", leaning against the 'Writer as he read and trying to find that inspiration. Ghostwriter had then asked him what he was thinking, and Danny suddenly asked him a question.

"...What was it like to die?"

Ghostwriter looked up from his laptop in surprise; it was a personal question, yes, but after two weeks of kisses and touches and dinners at the parent's house (and Randy's domain, that one time that shall remain unmentionable), nothing was really that 'personal' anymore. He saved his work and closed his laptop, then leaned back on the couch, his eyes a bit hazy with memory.

"...I remember...feeling like my entire soul was being pulled from the inside out," he said. "I mean, I was asleep, but I was aware of what was happening. It wasnt...painful or frightening...it was just...otherworldly." His arm unconsciously wound around Danny's shoulders. "...It was...mysterious, to say the least. I woke up, and I was still me...but I WASNT me. I felt different...like I was still in a dream that I would never wake up from..."

As he spoke, Danny felt his own ghostly core pulse gently; it always seemed to pulse when a ghost was near, and he discovered from Frostbite that it was where his ice powers, ghost breath, and other ghost powers came from; it just reacted whenever another ghost was near. But now, it was pulsing with something that felt like a memory he had never experienced before. Familiarity to strangeness. It was, indeed, a mystery.

Danny smiled and hugged Ghostwriter around his chest. "...It sounds so beautifully sad," he said softly. Ghostwriter nodded.

"It was just my perception of death," he replied. "I'm sure everyone experiences it differently." He sighed and closed his eyes. "Randal told me that it was like taking a plummet on a roller coaster into an ocean of jell-o." Danny snorted.

"Randy's a nut," he said.

"I wont argue with you there."

They lapsed into silence, and Danny put one hand over his core, feeling the pulsing in his core, now fully aware of it. He had found the inspiration within.

When he went home that night, he pulled out the new journal Jazz had given him for Christmas, and began to write.

"Danny, would you like to read your poem to the class?"

Danny looked up from his notebook with a smile and pulled his journal out of his backpack. "Sure!" she said enthusiastically, heading to the front of the class. Mrs. Yenny smiled back at him. Ever since had gotten back from Christmas vacation, he had been happy and creative, putting a hundred percent into everything he did. And even though the topic for the final poem before they began essays and short stories was a bit depressing, Danny looked quite serene.

He made it to the front of the class and opened up his journal, pushing a lock of raven hair behind his ear. "This is my poem on MY interpretation on death," he said. "I've actually decided to publish this poem, so...I hope you all like it." He took a breath, and began reading:

"Veins pinned down by a stuttering mind
Blood spills out, always pumping in time
Voices cry harmoniously
The haunted sound of melancholy
Then fast and furious, a glimmer of wisdom
An epiphany, a lyrical mystery
But like all things, the end comes too soon
And all thats left behind is a vague memory
Floating unconscious, a melody that glides
A beat to the soul, hidden in our minds
Never quite escaping, confined by a reason
Inspiration slides in this mirage of rhythm."

By the time he was done reading, most of the girls in his class looked near tears and the boys were nodding in deep thought. He looked over at Mrs. Yenny, who was silently sobbing into her handkerchief. Danny knew that Mrs. Yenny was a widow (he had actually met Mr. Yenny in the Ghost Zone quite by accident some time ago), and that poem really touched her. He went back to his seat and smiled down at the poem he had written, thinking back to just last night when he had given the first preview of the poem to Ghostwriter.

After he had finished reading the poem to the 'Writer, he was surprised and a little worried when the ghost burst into tears. When he had freaked out and asked what was wrong, Ghostwriter hugged him and told Danny that for years, he had been searching for the right words to describe death, and never could find them.

Until then.

And right then, Ghostwriter was sure he had found his soulmate.

Danny smiled to himself as he closed his journal and put it back into his bag. He would invite Andrew over for dinner tonight, and tell his parents about them, he decided. Like it said in his poem, 'the end comes too soon', and he didnt want to waste any time with his half-life before his own death would come. He wanted to die with no regrets or secrets. As the next studen walked up to tell her poem to the class, Danny put his hand over his core, feeling it pulse beneath his hand. He had a feeling that Ghostwriter's own ghost core was pumping in time with hiw own.

Less than a month later, a new book of poetry came out in bookstores entitled "Life, Death, and Emotions", by "The Ghost Writers."

On the first page were the words,

"For Danny and Andrew."

Well, that's it for "It's Love in the Library". I really hope you all enjoyed it!

Danny's poem is once more a song, "Mirage of Hope", by Hemstock and Jennings, found here:

http: / www . youtube . com / watch?v = na- Yl- n0yf E

It's without a doubt one of the most beautiful songs ever.