Disclaimer: Don't own DP.

So Invader Johnny requested a story where Desiree and Danny switch bodies, and this is my response to that request. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: Danny switches bodies with Desiree per a poorly worded wish by Sam. While trying to reverse the accident, Danny struggles with being a desirable woman who must obey wishes, and Desiree enjoys turning Danny's body into a scandalous celebrity icon. Sam is a vindictive but slightly concerned third party. DxS. Post PP.


Powerless

Chapter 1: Sam and Danny Just Don't Understand Each Other Sometimes


Somewhere in the land of day dreams and hormone-charged thoughtlessness, Danny wavered, baby blue eyes staring at Paulina Sanchez as she sauntered past the lunch line. Her swinging hips were enough to hypnotize any red-blooded man—famous half-ghosts included.

Paulina looked out of the corner of her eye, her pink lips twitching up as she winked at him. Daniel Fenton, also known as Danny Phantom, had belonged to one Samantha Manson for nearly three years, ever since the Distasteroid. But that didn't stop Paulina from trying, or Danny from looking.

"Danny?" Sam asked from the other side of the lunch table.

"Hmm?" he responded dreamily.

Sam's voice was distant to him, straining with irritation. "…Danny?" When he did not respond right away, she pressed harder. "Come on, seriously? I'm trying to talk to you."

The boy blinked, looking away from the swaying backside of Paulina. "...Wha—? Huh?"

"You're doing it again," Sam said flatly. She stabbed her fork a little harder into her salad.

Danny's eyes eventually moved back to his girlfriend, only to realize that he had been staring at someone who was decidedly not his girlfriend—and he blushed. "Oh, sorry. Bad habit." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, swallowing hard. His mind was still racing with images of Paulina's swaying hips, his mouth watering with the thought of them.

"Why is it still a habit with you?" Sam demanded, not entirely out of anger. Something in her expression was pained. "Am I not good enough anymore or something?"

"No, it's just…You know…" Now that everyone knew he was Danny Phantom, girls still tended to pay him a bit more attention. And sometimes he couldn't help himself by paying the attention back. He didn't mean much by it. It was just nice…sometimes. Especially because he knew he could get away with it.

What girl didn't want Danny Phantom checking her out? If it weren't for Sam nearly frothing at the mouth, they would probably all throw themselves at his feet. And if he were entirely honest with himself…he didn't mind the idea. As long as he got attention.

He bit his lip. "I'll be better, I promise." Then he fixated on Sam's chest. She had begun to fill out quite nicely, her small hourglass curving out in the best of ways. Danny was rather delighted by that, because he could almost forget about all the other girls he could have.

Sam crossed her arms, self-conscious. "That's not what I meant," she said flatly. "God, what is wrong with you lately? Why do I feel like you only talk to my boobs anymore?" She craned her neck to try and look at him straight. "My eyes are here, you know."

"I'm not talking to your boobs," he said, eyes wide. "Sam, I'm just appreciating the view. What's wrong with that? Don't girls like it when a guy appreciates the view?"

"Because the view's the only thing you appreciate anymore," Sam said, eyes hard. "I know you think you can get away with a lot of things because you're Danny Phantom, but this is ridiculous. You think girls like being looked at like a piece of meat? There's a difference, Danny. There's a big difference. I'm beginning to think you respected me a lot more when I was one of the guys instead of your girlfriend."

Tucker appeared, setting his lunch tray on the table. "Hey, guys," he said brightly, completely ignorant. He sat down beside Sam. "What's up?"

Danny's eyes hardened, not even acknowledging Tucker's presence. "Look, Sam. It's not like I'm doing anything bad. I'm not infringing on your feminist ideals or whatever, but—"

"—My feminist ideals?" she repeated, eyebrows raised. Sam had always been a bit vindictive and sharp, and she could not help but rise to the challenge of an insult. "Like you even know what that word means."

Tucker frowned, staring between his two best friends with an awful sinking feeling in his stomach. They were arguing again, this time over the very topic he feared would break them apart.

Danny huffed. "Look, Sam, just because other girls are still interested in me doesn't mean that you're not my favorite. I mean, Paulina's got a nice set, but yours are much—"

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You chauvinistic pig," she hissed. "I'm a human being, dammit." She pointed her finger out to Paulina and Star. "And even though I question it sometimes, they're human too. So stop acting like we're not. It's objectifying. I hate it."

"I'm not objectifying you!" he said. "Geez, you're so touchy."

"Danny," her voice strangled, "maybe it's fun for a little while to get that kind of attention, but it gets old fast. It makes me feel like dirt. And I can't respect you if you can't respect me."

Tucker's wide eyes began to nearly explode with fear. "Oh, wow. Look at the time," he laughed nervously. "I forgot I'm supposed to get to class…early…today! See you guys later, bye!" And he quickly grabbed his tray and left them, pulling on his hat hard so no one could see the look of discomfort and fear he had on his face. "Here they go again," he complained under his breath.

High school relationships rarely lasted—and everyone knew Sam and Danny had been arguing more in that bickering, old couple way that people got before a major break-up. What made it worse was that Danny Phantom had options. Many, many options—if only he wanted them. The once-unbreakable relationship had begun to struggle under Danny's incessant curiosity and Sam's irritation at trying to remind him that those girls simply wanted him for his ghost side.

"Look, now you made Tucker leave!" Danny complained. "Why do you have to be so emotional about this?"

"Emotional?" she repeated indignantly. "Emotional?! Danny, this isn't about emotion. It's about respect! Which apparently you have none for me. At all."

"So what—you just want me to not look at you?" he demanded, voice raising. People were beginning to look at them both now. "You want me to respect your emotions and not look at my own girlfriend? Would that make you happy?"

"I want you to not look at me like I'm just a toy!" she yelled. "God, can't you get it through your head? What happened to dates that didn't involve just sex, huh?"

His face twisted in anger, and he tilted his head at her, eyes beginning to glow green in his infamous temper. "I so don't look at you like you're a toy! And don't tell me you don't like our dates!"

"You just use me!" she cried out. "That's all I am to you. You'd rather whore yourself out to girls that just want you for your freakin' powers. You don't really care about me anymore. Admit it."

He looked almost stunned. "Where the hell is this coming from?" he breathed.

"I don't know, you tell me," she retorted. "You're the one who changed."

"I didn't change," he retaliated, frowning. "You just got…I dunno, bitchy or something. You're always on my case. You're always trying to talk to me about feelings and weird stuff."

"Because I can't stand the way that everything's just physical." She looked pained. "I hate this. I hate what we've become."

After three years, he knew exactly what buttons to push to make Sam steam in anger. "That's not what you said last night," he said, voice lowering into a self-satisfied smirk.

The people at tables nearby gave an 'ooh,' even as they winced and lowered their heads, trying not to pay attention, even though they really wanted to.

Sam gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white. "Then maybe we just need to stop," she said, her eyes reflecting unshed tears, voice hard. "I can't keep doing this, Danny. I can't keep letting you…use me like this."

"Well, fine," he said. He turned away. "I can't take you bitching at me all the time."

Sam blinked, her unshed tears suddenly slipping down her cheeks. She whispered. "Don't you understand? I just want my friend back."

"This is me," he told her levelly. "If you don't like it, you can leave." He raised his hands. "I'm not holding you back."

She raised her chin, some semblance of her old Manson dignity straightening her spine despite her tears. "Then I'll leave," she whispered. "And I'll stop holding you back."

"Fine."

"Fine."

Sam grabbed her lunch tray off the table and turned around, stalking off to the other side of the courtyard. Danny sat back down by himself, a strange, disturbed expression on his face. He grabbed onto his hamburger and bit down hard, chomping like a mad man to control his anger and sudden spike of guilt.

The entire courtyard tried to cover up the argument with their random chatting, but several people began to pass money under the table, repaying the entire network of betting Casper High on Sam and Danny's relationship.

Whispers. "See? Told you they'd blow up at each other by the end of the week."

"—Really laid into each other—"

"—Don't normally try to be the rebound girl, but I mean, it's freaking Danny Phantom, and anymore he's got a really sexy—"

"—bet he's really good in bed now, what with—"

"—Think he likes blonds instead?"


Sam sighed shakily, closing her eyes as she leaned against the bike rack railings, feeling her tears still roll down her face. Of course Danny wouldn't understand. She wanted him to herself, and she wanted him to look at her with desire—but not just for her body. He was getting worse under the influence of an inflated, superhero ego. And their arguments and loosening emotional ties were making his eyes wander.

She should have known. No one could really handle popularity without becoming a jerk. And Danny, with several years of an inferiority complex under his belt, was soaking in all the lost time, taking advantage of every bit. It almost reminded her of the time he was chosen as a judge for the Miss Teenage Happy Princess Beauty Pageant—but this time there was no end. She brushed frustrated tears from her eyes with the back of her hand.

Maybe it was time to break up, no matter how much it hurt. Sam felt as if their relationship had dipped to an all-time low, tethered only by Danny's hormonal lust for physical contact. It was beginning to make her feel like less of a human being and more of a chew toy. But of course he didn't understand; he thought everything was great, as long as he could sneak into her bed at night. He thought it was great when people cooed over his muscles and powers.

Anger and irritation swarmed through her.

"Stupid boy. I wish he'd get massively objectified," she muttered vindictively, "by the most objectified person of all. And then he'd be powerless to stop it till he learned his freakin' lesson." She kicked the railings with her combat boot, then stalked off, her anger melting out into depression.

She should have known high school relationships never lasted.


And somewhere throughout the plains of the Earth, a wishing ghost felt her power pull her back to Amity Park. Desiree's beautiful red eyes narrowed as her sharp ears caught a young woman's plea. She knew that voice. She knew exactly who that voice was talking about.

"The ghost boy," she whispered. She generally tried to avoid Danny Phantom, as he had a bad habit of wrecking her plans. And ever since he had saved both the Human World and Ghost Zone from mass destruction, everyone was a bit more hesitant to get on his bad side. Only a few ghosts—like that idiot Skulker—were stupid enough to challenge him day in and out.

I wish he'd get massively objectified by the most objectified person of all. And then he'd be powerless to stop it till he learned his freakin' lesson.

Something about the wording of that wish made her full lips twitch into an amused smile. "I am the most objectified of them all," she acknowledged slowly. Desiree, the wishing ghost, the beautiful woman for whom empires had once fallen, had always been nothing more than a novelty to be used. When people saw her, they did not ever see her.

From a safe distance away, she stared at the angry Danny Fenton, and she tilted her head. "Your lovers wishes that I objectify you…so that you may understand?"

Some kind of vengeful humor overtook her as she began to calculate just how twisted the wish could be—and how much she could capitalize off of it herself. "Oh, keeper of Phantom's heart," she said softly, voice hard, smile sharp, "I know exactly how to awaken your lover's understanding."

She raised her thin arm up, green light searing from her graceful palm. The wish that Sam made was strong and coated with great passion—it would spurn her own power to greater heights. It would give her enough energy to escape her own afterlife. If only for a little while.

Her power core flickered bright with the wish. "So you have wished it, so shall it be!"

And then, suddenly, reality flipped.


Seconds passed in a quick blur as Danny felt himself suddenly black out, only to reawaken in the industrial construction section of Amity Park in a cold sweat and a strange, nauseated daze. What the—?

He felt as if he had been run over by a dump truck, which was odd, as he thought he had most certainly only been eating a hamburger just a minute ago. His head pounded, and he winced, not having felt so bad in a long time.

But as he recalibrated back to reality, he noticed the way his body met with the gravel ground was different—that his weight felt all shifted around and uneven, heaver on his chest and hips. He ran a hand through his hair in his typical habit, only to realize that it was very thick and long and silky, and—he grabbed a fistful of it in sudden panic, eyeing it strangely. The hand before him was green, and it wasn't his hand either. No, the fingers were long and tapered in thin, feminine lines, the wrists dainty.

Was he hallucinating? Something like cold ice water chilled down his spine. It felt real. It felt too real. Then he looked down at himself and saw the tops of full, green breasts, the flicker of a ghost tail covered by rich purples and blues and silver coins.

He opened his mouth to cry out in panic and fear, only to realize the voice that ripped from his throat was inherently feminine and familiar, like a mellow bell.

Absolute terror gripped him. In desperation, he looked at the factory buildings around him for some kind of reflective surface. Something was wrong—horribly wrong. He quickly flew to an old, broken window and pressed his hands against the cracked glass, eyes wide.

Instead of his own face reflected, the terrified face of Desiree stared back at him.


Back at Casper High, the body of Daniel Fenton sat at the lunch table, one moment in sullen anger, the next in distant thought. No one noticed the strange switch because it happened so quickly. His body hunched over, and his hands dropped his hamburger back onto his plate.

A new consciousness had suddenly stormed down the empty shell, filling in the neural synapses and power core with an entirely new set of directives.

Desiree blinked, feeling a bit dizzy as she began to settle into Danny's body as its host. It felt not entirely like looping several times on a magic carpet—something she had not done in centuries. She had also never stolen the body of a man before. She felt much larger than usual, more wide and solid. It was an odd feeling.

So this was Daniel Fenton.

In awe, she stared at the hands before her, inspecting the long fingers and hard callouses and hard veins that stormed up Danny's arms. He had certainly grown the last few years. These were the hands that had fought her several times and decimated her plans. These were the hands that had grabbed onto her and cast her into a soup thermos with the name Fenton on it—every time she was just amassing enough power to perform some really good wish-twisting.

A strange, uncharacteristic smirk pulled Danny's lips sideways, and his body quirked a brow. The slightest of red glows that had burrowed beneath his blue eyes faded as Desiree fully integrated into her new role as Danny Fenton.

She knew that to fulfill Sam's wish, she need only allow Danny a few days in her own body, so that he would suffer under the attention and powerlessness of her general existence. But…she did see a good opportunity for some personal revenge of her own…

And did his body not count as him as well? Was she only to punish his soul?

Desiree reached for the backpack that was slung alongside the edge of the table. Her curious eyes darkened with ideas. What secrets did Danny Phantom have? What could she do to "massively objectify" all of him? Surely, there was something she could do…

She was nothing if not creative.

She began pulling out folders and textbooks, old papers that were graded—obviously, Daniel Fenton was still not a stellar student, judging by the excessive amount of red ink on everything. But she could not think of a way to use that against him, so she continued in her rummage.

Her hand suddenly hit a hard, rectangular card. It was creased up and battered, as if it had been at the bottom of Danny's backpack for quite some time. Huh.

"Uh, Danny?" Tucker's voice called out, nearing closer. Desiree stared at him from within Danny's body, tilting her head. She recognized this boy—he was the one who had wished for his own ghost powers nearly three years ago. Greedy and self-centered, as all men were, Desiree thought with a huff.

"Yes?" she said. Danny's voice rumbled lightly down her throat.

Tucker gave him a worried look. "Man, I know we joke all the time about girls and stuff, but I just saw Sam walk by me. And she was crying. I think you really hurt her feelings."

"Did I?" Desiree asked. She knew that she could not allow this boy to know the soul of Danny Fenton did not inhabit the body. She tried to make her voice indignant.

Tucker sighed, pulling off his hat. "Yeah, you did. Sam's my friend too, you know. So why don't you go apologize to her, man? I haven't seen her that angry in a long time."

Desiree looked down at the card she'd found in Danny's backpack. It was satin-smooth, of fine quality paper. The name Giovanni Di Vita – Photographer shined in silver, along with a number and address in New York City.

A photographer. Those instant portrait painters, she realized. She even recognized the name; she had granted a few women's wishes to be photographed by the wild and eccentric foreigner.

Then the greatest idea hit her.

From Tucker's perspective, it looked as though Danny's distant eyes suddenly focused with realization. Tucker thought maybe he had finally gotten through to Danny, but inside Danny's body, Desiree was thinking that if she flew now, she could make it to New York by 2:00 pm.

There was no need to waste a minute of her revenge. The more damage she did before Danny learned his lesson, the better.

"I think," she told Tucker, "I have something more important to do first."

And without warning, she activated Danny's powers. Great rings of light stormed down her, and she blasted up into the sky, stretching free from the confines of Danny's human skin.

The other students paid the striking sight little mind at this point besides mild interest. Ever since the Distasteroid three years ago, they knew exactly who Danny was. And three years of it had lulled them into some strange kind of stability. Perhaps, they thought, he had sensed a ghost nearby. A few girls waved, watching him soar into the air, already trying to capitalize off of his fight with Sam.

But on Danny Phantom's face was a twisted smile. His body was paying the Casper High girls no mind at all, nor did he seem to care about the concerned friend he'd left in the dust.

"Oh, this body," Desiree breathed out in a strangled laugh, caught between awe and a vicious sense of jealousy. Phantom was truly a marvel. His power core was strong and stable on its own, pulling in energy from the air with solid intake. No wonder he was so strong; he was entirely self-sufficient. "No wishes, no need to obey!"

She shot an ectoplasmic blast at the clouds and giggled at the way the power decimated everything in its path—whereas her own power, without any wishes, would have merely teased the cloud a different shape.

With such a stable power core, she could fly whenever she wanted, say no whenever she wanted. No one could take anything away from her. And no one would dare to touch Danny Phantom if he did not wish it.

Desiree nearly laughed when she realized just how terrorized the ghost boy would be to awaken in her body with no way out. "He will know such fear," she wondered with a vindictive smile. "To be powerless without the wishes of others. To have to obey."

The people of Amity Park stared up at Danny Phantom as he flew by. Their faces carried admiration, respect, jealously even. The natural neural pathways of Daniel's brain seemed to feed into it, longing for such positive affirmation. Despite Sam's fears that Danny only wanted the physical attention, the ghost boy truly wanted respect, and he did get quite a bit of it.

But Desiree would have to change that. By the time she was through with Daniel Fenton's reputation, he would be the most recognized hero in America—in every way he never wanted.

"Now," she breathed with a smile, testing the limits of Danny's flight speed, "to New York for the instant portrait maker."


A/N: I don't think Desiree is too often explored as an actual personality in the fandom, which is very convenient for the purpose of this story because she probably is one of the most objectified ghosts ever. And I do think that Danny can be a real objectifying jerk sometimes and very dependent on girls' attention to his ghost side for self-worth. Oh, the things I have planned for both Desiree and Danny in the next chapter…

Please review and let me know your thoughts/ideas!