AN: I wanted to make it clear that at this point, Danny doesn't know that his 'ghost' self is separate to his 'own' self. So… this is WAY early in the series, before the 'Fenton Dream Catcher' incident in Episode 2x05 "Identity Crises". Also, just to be clear: this is Fenton x Phantom fic... you have been warned... :DDD

AN2: Listen to 'Speed of Light' by Asian Dub Foundation while reading... I had it on repeat while writing, actually inspired most of this... ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or any of its related themes or characters...

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A Sensible Guy

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Danny Fenton is a sensible guy. He's convinced of this fact. Alright, he convinces himself of that fact. Every morning. In the bathroom mirror.

The only problem is, he doesn't get the same response from the mirror.

A feathery touch runs over his arm, around his neck. Danny shrugs it off and continues brushing his teeth, trying to ignore the breathing on his neck.

This's been going on for a couple of weeks now. On and off. Bad when he turns ghost, worse when he stays 'normal'. He tries to convince himself that it's all just in his head, but when he dreams at night… it doesn't feel …. Like a delusion.

He did talk to Maddie about it at one point, left out most of the details though, and all her reply was: "Don't be silly, Danny. Our Ghost Shield is impenetrable… and we sweep you and your sister's room with the radar every day!"

And that's when it gets weird, because the only thought running through his mind is a cocky voice saying: 'Oh yeah? Well obviously never when I'm here! And you call yourself Ghost Hunters…'

To say he was shocked was an understatement, he just nodded nervously, trying to squander the arrogant remarks the voice inside his head starting declaring.

Luckily, Maddie had just smiled trustingly and left.

So, he's back so square one.

'They don't understand…' he thinks to himself, feeling both angry and hurt. He rinses and drops his toothbrush back into the small cup on the sink, 'How can I trust them if they don't even know what I'm going through…'

He looks in the mirror, tries to ignore the weird sensation of something that envelops him. He brushes it off, convincing himself it's just his own paranoia. 'They won't ever understand…'

'But I do…I'm the only one to trust…'

He clams his eyes shut, shaking his head to clear out the stray thought. When he opens his eyes again, he feels a cold wave of fear wash over him. Green. Eyes. He doesn't HAVE green eyes.

His hand suddenly rises up unwillingly and touches his cheek, "What the-"

'Shh…. They'll hear you…'

"Wha- Who are you?" Danny growls, painfully aware of how fast his breathing has gotten, how red his cheeks are. He forces down the fricken' butterflies in his stomach and hauls his thoughts to a more practically focused area, hunting ghosts. That's what he's good at. And he's pretty damn sure that he's being overshadowed right now. Why else would-?

'Don't be such an idiot….you know who I am.'

Danny's about to either punch himself in the gut or go ghost on this freak, because this is SO not cool. But all those thoughts suddenly melt away when his face unwillingly edges closer to the mirror. He grabs the sink, trying to push back, but it didn't seem to do much good since he's still being pulled closer and closer. Like a magnet. Like a gravity surge.

'Don't be so damn shy, Danny… ' the same arrogant voice from before says, 'I don't bite… unless you want me to…'.

When Danny stubbornly slams his arm against the wall, bracing himself against it to stop himself from being pulled closer, he hears a knock on the door.

"Danny? You okay in there? We have to leave in a few minutes…" his sister's concerned voice floats through the door.

'Tell her to give us some privacy…' the annoyingly narcissistic voice practically purrs into his ear.

He shudders angrily and dives his face into the crook of his arm, "I'm fine, Jazz… just finishing up…" he lies, using the moment of peace to finally push away from the magnetic force completely, stumbling back.

'Don't be so modest… '

Danny straightens up and glances in the mirror, raising his hand momentarily to massage away the rosy hue on his cheeks. He straightens his crooked collar, suddenly noticing the red marks there; he groans and runs a hand through his hair, not wanting to go anywhere near the cupboard –and mirror- to get the brush. When he does finally look himself in the mirror, the green orbs that had replaced his icy blue were slowly dissipating.

'We're not nearly finished…'

He slams the door shut after he leaves. Because he's a sensible guy, and sensible guys know when to take threats seriously.

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Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it ;DDD