Disclaimer; I don't own Danny Phantom or Ghostbusters (Real or Extreme), Butch Hartman owns DP and... I'm not really sure who owns Ghostbusters, to be honest. Well, whoever they are, they're not me. I'm not making any money off of this, I'm barely sure of where the idea came from, actually...

Author's Note: Since I never got to see the final season of Danny Phantom, including the 'Phantom Planet' series finale, for purposes of this story those episodes never happened. Specifically, Danny's identity is still secret in Amity Park (if not a certain other city).

"A Lot Can Happen In Five Years"
by J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

Amity Park,
New Jersey
2012

A dark haired young man rolled over and picked up the clock beside the bed, glaring at the numbers on it. Beside him, blue-black hair framing a porcelain face, a young woman stirred and moved next to him, pressing against him from behind.

"It's time?"

He sat the clock back down, "Unfortunately. I don't know how you talked me into this."

"Yes, you do," she answered, throwing an arm over him and tracing circles on his bare chest, "It was just... like... this."

"A city full of near-sighted shoot-first maniacs who think that ghost genocide is okay as long as they call themselves 'scientists'," the man sighed, "Reunion or not, what hell dimension spawned the idea of coming back here?"

"Revenge," the woman answered, walking her fingers down his chest, "Curiosity."

As her hand reached the blanket, before it disappeared under it, she added, "And Janine threatened to lock us both in a trap with Slimer if you didn't take a vacation, Baby-Pop."

Any response he might have had was cut off by her next action.

Their arrival would be delayed.

In a school gymnasium, a woman with jet-black hair and dark makeup fumed.

"He's late."

A dark-skinned man shrugged, a plate of hors'd'ourves in his hand, "Probably got held up in traffic."

"Tucker!" The woman huffed, "Danny can't get held up in traffic, remember?"

Tucker popped a pig-in-a-blanket into his mouth, "Five years, things change, Sam."

Sam frowned in disgust at the sight of half-masticated pork product, "Five years and he's barely spoken to us, how can you be so calm about it?"

"It's a guy thing," Tucker admitted as he swallowed, "Lighten up, Sam, it's Danny. Even if we don't see each other every day anymore, he's still our friend."

Sam wrapped her arms around herself, "I know, I know. It's just cutting himself off like this, it's not like... Danny?"

"I know it's not what we're used to, but everyone needs some time to get used to being out of school, he's just taking a little longer than the rest of us."

"No, Tucker," Sam rolled her eyes and grabbed Tucker by the arm, turning him around to face the gym's entrance, "Danny."

Tucker's jaw dropped at the sight of his best friend in a suit and tie, shoulder-length hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, with a - dare he think it? - smoking hot woman wearing a curve-hugging single-strap dress, her long blue-black hair in a French braid, hanging on his arm.

"Oh."

Smiling and nodding to old classmates that he barely recognized anymore, Danny muttered low enough for only his partner to hear, "Where's a Class VII or higher when you need one?"

"Behave and smile for the fans, Danny," She answered at the same volume, adjusting her purse containing the only piece of equipment they had brought in case of emergency, "We don't know if any of them aren't living in their own little world anymore."

Danny raised his voice to return a greeting from another alumni before dropping it back down, "You can't be saying you wouldn't rather be threatening Gozer with chocolate and graham crackers than be here."

"If Kylie calls to tell us that a hundred-foot-tall marshmallow sailor is stomping down Broadway, then we can leave," She conceded, "Not before. I still don't get why you're so hung up on this."

"Do the words 'dissect the ghost-child molecule by molecule' ring a bell?"

"It's been five years, Baby-Pop."

"Right, five years hasn't changed a thing... five years of working with real scientists, of actually studying ghosts instead of just blasting them," Danny gave a quiet scoff, "Five years of dealing with a Class V Full-Roaming Vapor as a member of the team, eating habits, slime and all."

The woman with him stopped and stepped closer to whisper in his ear, "Says the Class VII Transformed Demi-Mortal?"

"Don't tease," Danny whispered back before nuzzling into her neck.

"Why don't you make me," the last word of her statement was lost as Danny claimed her mouth with his own.

"Woah," Tucker gasped, "There's no fake-out in that make-out..."

Something of the territorial rose up in Sam, "Just who the hell is she?"

"Who? No clue," Tucker admitted, "But I bet I can take a guess at what she is."

Sam growled, "Tucker, shut up and come on."

The resulting grabbing and pulling along about dislocated his arm as Sam dragged him off towards the kissing couple.

With a soft popping sound, she pulled her lips away from her partner's, "Don't look now, Baby-Pop, but we've got a PKE spike on the Goth and the Geek."

"Play nice."

"When do I not?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"Please. I can show you later," She dived in to steal another quick kiss, "Maybe they won't stay long."

"Daniel Fenton!"

"Save me?" Danny whimpered as his partner pulled away again.

"Don't worry," she answered softly, "I'll protect you from the big, bad human."

"Where have you been? What have you been doing? Why haven't you called or anything? And who is she?" Sam rattled off as she released the death-grip she had on Tucker's arm.

"Geeze, Sam," Tucker complained, rubbing his bicep where he could still feel indentions from her fingers, "I've kinda got used to having two arms, you know."

"Tucker, shut up. Danny, answer the questions," Sam demanded.

Danny turned to face them, placing one hand in his pocket as the other drifted down to rest at his partner's hip, wrapping his arm around her, "Uh, New York, working, and been busy?"

Sam was about to repeat her question about the woman with Danny, but Tucker cut her off, "What kind of work keeps you that busy for five years?"

Danny shrugged, "I'm something of a freelance troubleshooter now, we handle private calls and a contract with the city."

"Who's 'we'?"

"The company I work at," Danny answered, evasively.

Tucker called him out on it, "What company?"

Another shrug, "Something of a private security firm. Does it matter?"

An elbow to the ribs and several glances of the eyes from Danny's partner got his attention.

"Oh, right," Danny nodded, "Amber, Tucker Foley and Sam Mason. Tucker, Sam, Amber..."

"Fenton," Amber finished, holding out a hand, "His wife."

The word 'wife' brought two thumps as Sam and Tucker fainted.

"Okay," Danny admitted, "That part might have been worth it."

"So, do we just leave them there or what?" Amber asked her husband.

"I'm thinking it over."

Sam awoke to find herself in a chair at a table as Tucker asked a series of questions that she definately wanted to hear the answers to.

"So, Amber, what do you do?"

The dark-haired woman leaned closer into her husband - Sam still couldn't believe it - as she answered, "I'm a musician, mostly small shows and the occasional concert in the Park."

"How does a 'freelance troubleshooter' meet a musician?"

Danny chuckled, "How else? Work. Someone..." he gave Amber an affectionate look, "forgot to get a permit for one of her performances while I happened to be working on our city contract. I ended up having to be the one to shut the show down... but in return I did take her out to dinner that night."

"Bite me, Dipstick," Amber retorted with a grin, causing Sam to frown.

"Maybe later, Rock Star," Danny shot back with a similar grin, showing it was just something the couple did.

Behind half-closed eyelids, Sam thought to herself that there was something strangely familar about this woman that Danny seemed to have married.