Wow, I always thought my first Danny Phantom fic would be a Danny/Sam oneshot. Oh, how different this is. I was just listening to this song and one line stuck with me. So, sitting bored in class while I should have been doing something else, I wrote this. Sorry if it's a bit confusing.

Disclaimer: I can't draw and I'm broke. Tell me how I could own this again?

Steel

She was of the coldest breed. Bitter. Hard. Alone. She made no exceptions to the law, no allowances for unforeseen occurrences. She was order; she was justice. Once, things were different. She was soft—determined still, but without this unfeeling drive that lingered, acrid, after her. Before her iron will asserted itself; when her friends were her friends and her enemies were her enemies. Now, she didn't know anymore. There was no way of telling. Since that night, when the disastrous secret had found light, she couldn't decipher friend from enemy.

Sometimes, she pretended. Acted as though she loved him still; imitated compassion for her; played as though his gadget fixation still made her laugh affectionately. But now is not then, and dwelling on the past only brought weakness. In the real world, no one saw her icy heart. She smiled and laughed and mocked conversation. Here in the shadows, wind whipping past her lithe frame as she preformed her duties mercilessly, she was content. No mask; no pretense. No memory of the longing tears she had shed as she replayed her decision; no thoughts of the heartbreak on that woman's face as they watched him die by her hand; not stricken by the disbelief on the dark man's face; not torn between love for the dying man and hatred of what he had become. Accusing eyes, staring merciless from every side, disappeared.

The other man, the older one; he knew. He understood the duty she had, the act she had committed. He felt no pity, passed no judgment as they watched the young man die, lying broken on the pungent ground as the pale woman swept bloodied ebony hair from his ashen face. In the night, flying unnaturally with only the unfeeling steel machine to keep her afloat, she was home. And there was no reason for anything else. She was Valerie; Hunter of the Night, Slayer of Ghosts; and no one could convince her otherwise.

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Despite what this fic may lead you to think, I actually like Valerie. Just not with Danny. Which is weird because this had a little D/V in it. I was just feeling a little morose, so something bitter came out. Ah well. Maybe I'll get around to that D/S soon. Then again, I'm currently embroiled in a chapter fic, so maybe not. I'm a review whore, but I won't go psycho if you don't feel like saying anything. I promise. Evil cackle.