I actually wrote fanfiction. I actually wrote fanfiction, finished it, AND was convinced to post it...somehow. It may not be the apocalypse, but it feels close. Azie, if we both weren't fans of Danny Phantom together, I probably wouldn't have gotten the guts to attempt this idea or even – gulp – share it.
This is pretty much the first Danny Phantom fanfiction in my name.
Summary: "Dude, did he just call you Danny back there?" Vlad abandons the usual nicknames - Daniel, dear boy, Little Badger - in what seems to be one of the first times in memory. Rarely has he directly addressed Danny simply as "Danny" before. Based off of the ep. An Eye for an Eye and borrows Vlad's dialogue from it. I could've done more with this, but I decided that for my first work I'd simply bring in some light to where this strange, unexpected nuance occurs.
Disclaimer (goodness, almost forgot this. Shows you how much I write fanfiction): I'm not Hartman, so I don't own Danny Phantom. Which is probably for the better, alas.
Name Calling
Danny counted the numbers silently in his head. Three. Two. One. The wrecking crew dropped the wrecking ball - column - something with the word "wrecking" in it - without hesitation, and the crowd of Casper High students watched in horror as their favorite hangout, The Nasty Burger, was demolished in seconds. It collapsed with a grinding, roaring crash, and after the gasps from the onlookers faded, when the ground stopped shaking and the dust cleared, only the Nasty Burger sign remained standing unharmed, next to a smoking pile of debris.
Off to his right, Danny could hear Tucker loudly lamenting to Sam how he hadn't been able to finish his last order of burger and fries at the restaurant because of the evacuation. Come to think of it, neither did I, Danny thought with a mix of despondency and anger. This was all Vlad's...
Danny felt a sudden chill, and instinctively knew that Vlad Masters was standing Right. Behind. Him. Definitely too close for comfort. Danny resisted a strong urge to whirl around and step away as Vlad slowly leaned down to speak in his ear.
"Let this be a lesson, Danny," Vlad said with what was one of his most patronizing voices, while Danny saw out of the corner of his eye that Sam and Tucker had caught onto the conversation and were watching them closely. He turned his head slightly and made a face at them so Vlad wouldn't see. Hasn't this cheesehead ever heard of personal space? Sam and Tucker returned the grimace that obviously replied, "No."
Yeah, 'personal space' probably means to Plasmius that all space belongs to him personally, Danny thought, rolling his eyes skyward and trying to tune out Vlad's victory gloat as much as possible. It wasn't easy when he was only a few inches away.
"I put the 'pro' in 'quid pro quo'," he was saying smugly.
What does quid pro quo mean, anyway? Danny wondered with a grumble, only to have Vlad make a quip seconds later about how he probably wasn't smart enough to know the meaning.
Danny turned around sharply at the jab, his blood boiling enough to give his cheeks a dull flush. No, he had no idea what quid pro quo was besides that it was Latin, and the look that Vlad was giving him was knowing enough about Danny's dead language expertise, but Danny would never admit he didn't know something to the likes of Vlad.
"I get the idea, and I don't like it," he snapped, glaring up at Vlad and infuriated by how amused the older man looked in response. Man, did he want to wipe that patronizing smile off his face with an ecto-blast that would send the billionaire all the way back to Wisconsin! "Believe me," Danny warned him, "this isn't over yet." And with that he pushed past Vlad and began walking away.
"Oh good, I'll take that as a challenge," Vlad called after him, smirking as Danny stalked off. Tucker and Sam followed after they each gave Vlad complementary glares of their own. Danny could barely hear the footsteps of his friends behind him, his ears were ringing so loud in fury. Vlad always had to have the last say moments before he got out of earshot, didn't he?
Tucker came up to Danny, nearly jogging to keep up with his pace. "Dude, did he just call you Danny back there?" he asked, sounding like he really wasn't sure whether he'd heard correctly.
"Yeah, what was that all about?" Sam added at Danny's right with her usual suspicion, throwing another skeptical glare over her shoulder in the general direction of Vlad and the pulverized Nasty Burger. "He never calls you that, does he?"
Wait. Wait a second. Danny suddenly stopped as what his two friends said sank in, amazed that he had overlooked that detail during Vlad's rant, despite his awareness that he had been trying to ignore Vlad at the time for the sake of his own sanity.
"No," he said slowly, staring somewhat blankly ahead, his eyes slightly widened, "he never does." It was always "Daniel," or "my boy," or "Little Badger." All nicknames that Danny hated, to be sure, but hearing Vlad call him anything else was somehow...worse.
"Danny?" his friends chimed in at the same time, looking concerned.
"It was probably just to get on my nerves," Danny replied irritably, shoving his hands into his pockets and setting off again. But while Sam and Tucker nodded in agreement and seemed satisfied with that explanation, Danny wasn't so sure. With Vlad, there always seemed to be – no, there always was - another reason for saying or doing something, an ulterior motive. He wouldn't up and call him "Danny" for no reason. The implications of why, Danny couldn't guess, and he honestly didn't want to consider it right now. But there was one thought he could always safely fall back on: Maybe Vlad was just off his nut again.
What a Fruitloop.
