"Tattletale!"

There was no doubt it was a party house. People with drinks mingled on the front lawn, more were either coming in or stumbling out, and even across the street their hearts were skipping to match the beat of the thumping bass.

"Are you sure you wouldn't rather catch a movie?" Danny tried.

"Aw come on man!" Tucker pleaded. "When was the last time you and I did something together?"

"Tuck, we live together."

"Yeah, but we've got different classes and midterms and I always feel like the third wheel with you and Sam. I just want it to be the two of us, y'know? Take advantage of some of that star power and have Danny Phantom as my wing-man."

Danny couldn't help but feel a little guilty. The past couple weeks had been pretty hectic. They were all just busy with their own things; Sam had taken on extra credits and Tucker was busy with his computer science courses, even on the weekends it was hard to make time.

"Okay," Danny relented. "I guess it wouldn't hurt to get out and mingle once in a while."

"Sweet! That is what I'm talkin' about." Tucker unzipped his jacket and pulled it open like a superhero changing costume. Underneath he wore a black t-shirt emblazoned with the phantom logo that proclaimed 'I was friends with 'D' before he was cool.'

"You did not seriously make that yourself."

He cocked his thumb in the direction of the party. "Lest they forget."

—

Inside the house was a sweltering hotbox from too many bodies crammed into too few rooms. His senses were bombarded with the din of loud music, meaninglessly overlapping chatter, the scent of booze sanitizing all the sweat.

Danny didn't know any of these people. He couldn't even figure out how Tuck had even found this place until he heard a familiar voice behind him.

"Well if it isn't Fentonius Maximus!"

"Aw hell..." he groaned, and turned around to face, who else? "Hey, Dash."

Except for trading in the old Casper High Letterman jacket for a sweatshirt with the University colors, he really hadn't change much, especially his scowl. "Nobody told me you were invited to this party," he said. Breaking into a grin, he elbowed Danny's side lightly. "Not that you couldn't just walk into any party you wanted! Ha! Great to see ya Fenton, it's been a while! Can I get you a drink?"

No matter how many years ago high school was, Danny still had not gotten used to 'Dash Baxter, Danny Phantom's Number One Fan'. "Uh…okay. Yeah, I guess. Thanks. Nothing fancy, just a vodka and some sprite."

"You got it, man." Somehow, Dash could make himself heard over the din of the party. "Hey, Brock! How about we get some drinks over here for the guy that saved the goddamn world!"

The entire house all raised their glasses and cheered drunkenly. He always was good at getting a crowd riled up.

Tuck was loving every second of it. "See Danny, what did I say? Star power."

"Oh hey, Foley, didn't see you there," Dash slapped a hand on his shoulder good-naturedly. "You drinking too?"

"You know it! Got any margaritas?"

"Hell yeah, we do! Love those things! People that call 'em a girl drink don't know what they're missing. You guys hang tight, I'll be back in a sec."

Watching Dash work his way through the crowd, Danny said, "That is still so damn weird."

"I think you mean' awesome'," Tucker corrected him.

He was about to respond when he noticed a girl watching him over Tucker's shoulder. Once she saw she had been spotted, she gave him her best, alluring smile and walked towards them. Pale shoulders held up a short black dress on a pair of pencil-thing straps. Her legs look like they went on forever. Sweeping a stray red bang away from her face, she tilted her head. "Oh, hey there Danny…"

"Hey there…attractive girl who definitely is not my awesome but scary girlfriend…"

Tucker threw himself in front of Danny as if he were stepping in the way of a bullet. "Don't worry Dude, I'll take the hit for you."

"You're a selfless hero, Tuck."

—

Working on his third drink, Danny leaned against the kitchen counter and reminded himself that Tucker was having a good time.

It wasn't as bad as he thought it would be. Some people shook his hand, one guy asked for an autograph on his shirt, a few girls got some pictures on their cells. Tucker relished in the attention. Last Danny saw him he was regaling a group a girls with tales of saving Danny Phantom from ghostly hunters with only his wits and an outdated PDA. The shirt turned out to be a good ice breaker, go figure.

He hadn't even needed ghost powers to slip away to the kitchen for a little extra breathing room. Thankfully there was pretty light traffic in there, and the few people sitting at the kitchen table either didn't know who he was or were too drunk to care.

He blamed it on drink number four when he jumped after spotting his own reflection in the kitchen window. A quick flick of the fingers frosted over the glass.

All it had needed was blue skin and longer hair.

"Hey dude, haven't seen you in a bit." He hadn't heard Tucker come in. Then again with the speakers trying to resonate the house into dust it was a miracle he could even hear himself think.

He shook his nearly empty glass. "Just getting a refill."

"Good idea," Tucker said, and started fixing himself another margarita. "Havin' a good time?"

"I am if you are."

"Dude, I got like, twelve meBook invites and six real phone numbers."

"Oh good. Well I hope they were nice guys."

"Ass," Tucker laughed, most of it probably from the margaritas than the bad joke."Damn, they're out of ice," he held up his cup. "You mind?"

"What am I, a walking ice-dispenser?"

"No, you're just my best friend who just so happens to have ice powers."

Letting out a suffered sigh, Danny closed his fist, shook it like he was playing dice, and dropped three perfect ice cups into Tucker's drink.

"Cool. Thanks."

"Can I get you anything else?" Danny asked dryly. "Some fresh appetizers with my meat-vision?"

"Don't you dare joke about that you know better."

Danny chuckled. Head swimming pleasantly from the drinks, he almost didn't catch it when his breath came out chilled.

Tucker stopped dead in place. "Uh…dude? Was that your-?"

Everyone in the kitchen screamed when the fridge and all the cabinets sprung open by themselves and every can, instant meal, and package of ramen flew threw the air and swirled in vortex of college staples.

"Looks like."

The music screeched to a halt and the entire house fell into a panic except for Danny and Tucker, who stayed where they were and sipped their drinks indifferently.

They were, of course, completely unsurprised when a small, blue-skinned ghost with overalls, pigtails and a pink beret materialized in the storm of food and announced, "I am Box Lunch! Daughter of the-"

"We know who you are, Boxy," Tucker said. "We were at your Naming."

"Silence! You will all learn to fear my starch heavy, MSG preserved DOOOOOM!"

"Did you seriously follow us here all the way from Amity?" Danny asked.

"The power of Box Lunch is not beholden to your puny state boundaries!"

Danny crossed his arms and scolded her. "Yeah? Well I know what is, young lady. So you had better put all this stuff back where you found it and march your butt back to the Ghost Zone right now or so help me I will tell your parents you're haunting past your bedtime. At college parties. With alcohol."

Every flying foodstoof froze instantly in midair, and after a moment's consideration, quickly fled back to their respective places the cubbard. In few short seconds, the kitchen was tidier than Danny suspected it had been all semester.

"You have defeated me this time, Tattletale, but you have not seen the last of Box Lunch!" Waving her hands portentously, the girl-ghost floated backwards and phased into the wall for her dramatic exit.

"3…2…1…"

She poked her head back into the room and added, "Oh yeah, I almost forgot: BEWARE!" And promptly vanished again.

"We should have asked her if she had meat-vision," Tucker realized too late.

Very slowly the other guests filtered back into the kitchen, staring at Danny with a collection of awe, fear, and stunned disbelief. Hearing stories of ghosts was one thing- it was another matter entirely to have one come into the room and make the groceries fly around. Danny guessed he shouldn't have been surprised. He wasn't in Amity, anymore.

Besides himself and Tucker, Dash seemed to be the only one who could still form a sentence, go figure. Perks of being attacked by ghosts in high school. "Damn, Fenton, that was awesome! You chased off that ghost without even having to use your powers!"

Danny shrugged, uncomfortable with the gallery of silent stares. "What, her? She's not so bad. Her dad and I go way back."

"Her dad? Wait…but that doesn't…how do ghosts even have kids?"

"We don't know and we will never ask," Tucker replied. "Ever."